Locomotive
by SweetSlytherinPrincess
Summary: The choice to return to Hogwarts to finish out their seventh year, has catapulted Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy into a spiraling locomotive of confusion, danger, and feelings they struggle to come to terms with. Will the flame of their forbidden passion die out? Or will the two be able to overcome their own prejudices to find themselves growing closer? - My first. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Dear readers,**

**This is in fact my first posted fanfiction. I am a bit wary, however I sincerely welcome all reviews and suggestions. Feel free to bother me about anything… and feel free to give me advice. I have recently become a big fan of the Draco/Hermione pairing. So this is my own version. This chapter, and many more will be safe, but I do intend for the situations to… well… escalate. Please enjoy!**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

LOCOMOTIVE

Chapter I

Her heart fluttered as the locomotive made its way around the bend, chugging along at great speed to a destination only people like her could see. She sat alone, her face pressed so close against the window that her breath fogged the glass before her, and she quickly wiped it away so she could peer into the darkness as best she could. It was twilight, the last bits of light disappearing quickly at the edges of the earth, and through the window she could make out the tall towering shapes in the distance. A feeling rushed over her... A feeling of relief and gladness to be home again after so much uncertainty. It was as if the train could not move itself fast enough. As her knee bobbled up and down she sank into her seat with a childish grin on her face. Despite all the pain and hurt, death and horror that had taken place here the year before, she was overwhelmingly ready to learn again. To finish what she had started here.

She glanced around her. The seats beside her usually taken by smiling faces. It seemed only yesterday that she had pried herself through the doors, making snooty remarks and demonstrating her knowledge. She chuckled softly, remembering how high her nose had been in the air. How awkward they all had been. And yet, that had shared this space for years onward. A bond between them has formed and this space had always marked the beginning of a new journey for them. This time however, she sat alone. Her partners in crime having opted out of returning.

It was not long before the train lurched to a stop. Now, outside her window, the moon glittered upon the vast, almost daunting lake; and lanterns began to glow as students bustled out of the train doors to meet the escorts. Suddenly the train was alive with laughter. From outside her door she could see people bump against each other with smiling faces in their attempt to make it within the castle walls as quickly as possible. It wasn't only smiling faces she saw, however. Some had huge, frightened eyes, anxious for what was to come. And of course, she could not mistake some of the hard, nearly solemn faces of those who remembered the previous year. Those who could not push the death from their memory. Her heart sunk as the faces passed her. This was her home, her sanctuary. The place she met those she loved most. And yet also the place she lost those she loved most.

Things had begun to die down around her. It was at this moment the frizzy haired girl took a deep breath and emerged from the doors before her. Looking up and down the narrow aisle, there was none but herself. With a nod of her head and an anxious smile, Hermione Granger exited the train and began her trek towards Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry to finish out her seventh year.

She had however, been mistaken. For as she made her way down the aisle, a door in the back silently slid open. From it, a tall pale figure stepped into the aisle way. Feet adorned in fashionable black leather, perfectly fitted black trousers, crisp black dress coat lined with a dazzling silver. Hands rose to adjust a tie, for beneath the dress coat was a white dress shirt and a sweater-vest lined with the green of a snake. Overall, the figure had a regal, mysterious, and matter-of-fact look about him. His pale, silvery-blue eyes watched as Hermione made her way towards the doors. His body going cold at the sight of her, his hand reflexively gripping his wand. He breathed slowly, annoying by his own behavior. The times had changed, she was no longer the enemy. But for some reason he could not help but be wary. After years and years of what he had been through… he was surprised he could even manage to return to this bloody school. But alas, now that much of his family was either dead or screaming in Azkaban; there was not much else for him to do. He had to finish out his seventh year here, or else he might end up a similar fate.

The mass of milk chocolate-amber hair glinted like precious gold as she turned the corner and exited the train. Silver eyes gazed at her as she left. Practical shoes, practical uniform. Practical, practical, practical. Just as she had always been. Save for a few rare occasions when she dawned a dress and rouge for the Yule or something similar. It did not surprise him in the slightest that she had shown up at Hogwarts this year. Out of everyone else in the school, it was she alone who thirsted for knowledge so passionately. It only seemed fitting that she return. Though, surprisingly enough, there seeming to be something missing. There was no freckled redhead or blasted Potter on either side of her.

This confused him a bit. For he was pretty damn positive Potter had nowhere else to go other that Hogwarts. Of course plenty would put him up, but Hogwarts had always seemed to be his escape. He figured though, that because of the war, Potter's fame had reached new heights…. And perhaps it wasn't that Potter didn't want to return…. Perhaps he was asked not to. Possibly the same scenario for the weasel…. But being that Weasley and Granger had fallen into some awkward romance, it was downright amazing the weasel wasn't prancing around her feet everywhere she went.

Draco sighed, pushing a strong hand through his platinum locks. The sides of which had been cropped, with a bit of length left at the top. His physique had filled out, toned long and lean. His face had become less pointed, and his skin less of a sickly pallor. While he had always been handsome, the lack of a dark Lord looming over him seemed to have given him a bit more of a lively look to him. Lively meaning…. Less dead. He looked tired perhaps, but other than that, the Malfoy that once was, seemed no more.

With yet another sigh, the young master made his way down the aisle, and exited the train. The mudblood not much further ahead and the crowd of returning students and first-years much farther up. Their lanterns glinting like stars and their laughter downright sickening. He started after them, picking up his luggage as he went.

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table, Ginny Weasley by her side. Smiles on both of their faces. Nearly all of the damage done the year before had been repaired. Some of the towers still needed to be patched, and there was some burned wood here and there. But to the first years coming in, the rumors they had heard of the destruction seemed entirely false. As they padded into the Great Hall, all their eyes wide, aghast by the sheer majesty that it was, Hermione watched with a small giggle. Remembering how nervous she had been on this very day nearly eight years ago.

"Marjorie Hendrickson." A hush fell over the crowd as the small made her way up to the chair to be sorted.

"Hmmm…. Too easy! Hufflepuff!" Her comrades cheered as she made her way to her new table.

"Conner O'Brien."

"Well, well, what a bright one we have here. Better be…. Ravenclaw!" The young boy smiled as applause poured from the Ravenclaw table.

"Theodora Aspen."

"Slytherin!" The sorting hat said without pause. Cheering came once again, and Malfoy peered over at the first new edition. She looked slightly frightened. Perhaps because of recent events, her status now as a Slytherin made the girl weary. Malfoy scoffed. What a pity.

The sorting went on. Everything seeming evenly distributed. And as the sorting hat was put away, Headmaster McGonagall made her way to the podium. Her cloak a rich velvety green. Her graying hair up in a tight bun, and her lips pursed in seriousness.

"Now. Congratulations to all that have been sorted. Make the best of what your houses can offer you." There was a hush over the crowd.

"Before we feast I have a few announcements. First: To all that have heard rumors about the previous year. Fear not. For the Dark Lord has fallen, and Hogwarts continues to not only be safe… but the safest place for you. While there is little threat to us anymore… if any…. We have decided to put certain safety precautions in place to put all at ease."

As she spoke of the Dark Lord, Malfoy cringed. He felt a few eyes wander and rest on him. Wondering if he was dangerous or not. He kept a calm composure. When his stormy eyes met another's, he offered them his signature smirk… and the quickly turned away.

"Furthermore, we have new staff to welcome." McGonagall motioned and her long-sleeved cloak billowed as she signaled for them to rise.

"Taking the place as potions-master and head of Slytherin House is Professor Tantibus." A tall, beautiful woman stood. Her skin of Mediterranean coloring. Her hair cascading down her back in chocolate heavy curls. Her eyes dark and mysterious. Her lips a matte wine color. She was adorned in all black. Her bodice buttoned up tight while her robes fell perfectly around her legs to the floor.

She spoke, nodding to McGonagall. Her voice languid yet stern.

"I am most pleased. I give my condolences, and I am excited to prepare you all for greatness." The corners of her mouth turned up, and with that applause rang out and she sat quietly back down.

McGonagall nodded a thank you, and cleared her throat to remind the students to close their mouths.

"We also welcome Professor Stellamordis. Your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Again a woman rose. Only this time she was a petite, pale young woman. Her eyes a sparkling blue, her cheeks rosy and her hair long, straight, and in an intricate braid that hung over her shoulder. She grinned and smoothed her violet cloak.

"I shall hope to do my best. Thank you, Headmaster." She waved delicately and sat back down. Now an excited and confused murmur began among the students, and McGonagall raised her own with a tightened in her voice.

"Hush now." She started. "Finally, I shall apologize to those who were previously unaware…. But because of the way last year went. Head students were never chosen. It is now that I will award then this honor of Head boy or girl. Which as you all know, is a great honor and a great responsibility. Please stand as I call your name"

Ears perked at this, and they all turned their focus up to the Headmaster.

"Ravenclaw. Head boy: Michael Pertilous." The young man stood with a smile as a badge appeared on the front of his vest. There was a soft applause that followed.

"Hufflepuff. Head Girl: Susan Bones." The red-head popped up. A wide smile on her face and the applause got a bit louder.

"Gryffindor. Head Girl: Hermione Granger." Suddenly the applause stopped, and Hermione's eyes became wide. The sweet honey brown of them glinting in the candle light as she stared at Mcgonagall. Her body frozen in awe.

McGonagall huffed. "I said please stand, Miss Granger." With that she hopped up, a deep blush coming across her face as the badge appeared. She traced her fingers along it lightly.

"Slytherin. Head Boy: Draco Malfoy." A cry rang out and gasps filled the room, mixing with loud applause from the Slytherin table. Malfoy stood slowly, showing no emotion... despite his confusion.

"Wonderful. Congratulations to all of you. Your luggage and belongings have already been moved to the Head Student Common room, where you will be escorted shortly. There will be a mandatory meeting tomorrow morning to go over duties, and so forth."

As Hermione sat back down in her seat. Her mind flooded with questions. Sharing a common room…. With Malfoy of all people? Why was she chosen? Why was HE chosen? She turned and looked over her shoulder in his direction, only to find his stormy silver eyes locked, starting deep into hers. His hands folded, and a mischievous smirk on his face. She shivered, a strange feeling of warmth shooting though her body. She shot him an angry glare, and turned her back to him once more.

"Let the feast, begin!"


	2. Chapter 2 - Own Her

**Dear Witches, Wizards, and Muggles alike,**

**I am excited to keep this story moving forward. I will admit that I think its inching forward at a slow pace right now. But I am sort of the type to come up with things as I go. So for now, please enjoy the ride! I hope to update as often as possible. Please rate and review and feel free to bother me about anything!**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter II

Hermione Granger was astonished. Before her eyes were the Head Common Rooms. Which consisted of a main foyer, adorned with purple furnishing. Photographs of the previous Heads, and other important figured lines the walls. From the foyer opened up two corridors. On led to the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw main room. While the other opened up to the Gryffindor and Slytherin main room. Both of which were simply decent sized study rooms. Akin to a muggle living room. Here, as they were informed, was a place to lounge and collaborate. From each main room branched off a personal bedroom and bath. One for each house.

Hermione walked through her own bedroom door with a nervous smile on her face. The dark, heavy wood opened up to a lavish bedroom adorned with crimson and gold. To her, it seemed fit for a princess. The walls lines with library shelves. Littered with texts she had not yet heard of. To the side was a glorious window, revealing just how high up they really were. She glided over and took a seat on the window comforter, taking a glance out the panes. In her sight was the edges of the lake and the beginnings of the forbidden forest.

She breathes, her hand nervously twiddling through her wavy locks. Upon her bed lay her luggage, neatly arranged. And they lay Crookshanks, purring softly. With a grin she moved over and began to unpack her things, making sure she felt at home in this new room that was so different from the years before.

Sure, she herself could not deny she had a wit about her. And new plenty more about Hogwarts than the average bloke…. But she couldn't help wonder why in fact she was chosen as Head Girl. Especially on such short notice. Furthermore, it was even harder to wrap her head around why that that dastardly Malfoy got the job. If anything, how was he even let back in? He was evil to the core no doubt. And everyone rightly knew it. Of course she has seen the articles in the Daily Prophet. "Malfoy Son Life Threatened: Brainwashed Boy?" "Charges Dropped Malfoy Heir is Innocent." "Dark Mark No More?" The list went on and on.

Sure, there was some validity in all of it. Malfoy having been raised by evil, therefore bred in the very nature. How was he to have known? Have what choice did he have really? His own life to be taken unless he followed orders….. None the less, Hermione could not rid the evils he had committed from her mind. She was beginning to think that they were made Head Boy and Girl not only because of their wits and experience…. But perhaps to keep them isolated. Safe. Away from rumors and the like. She huffed, her cheeks suddenly burning.

"Quite a place, isn't it Granger?" Hermione jumped, her hand clasped around her wand. Her eyes narrowed at the cool, deep voice shaking her to the core.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" She scoffed, turning to look him up and down. What she saw scared her. His tall toned body leaning lazily against the dark wooden frame that was her door. His cool, dancing eyes looking her over with amusement. He wore dark clothes as usual. But he had abandoned his dress coat and simply have one his Slytherin vest and crisp white dress shirt beneath it. He pushed a hand through his white-blonde hair as he smirked at her.

"Your door was open. I see no harm done." With a grin he shrugged. "Did I frighten you?" His eyes did the smiling for him now. And Hermione couldn't help but blush. Why? She lifted her hand to feel her face. And was appalled.

"My, my! What have we here? 'Tis not often I see such a rouge on your face. What's got you worked up Granger? Could it be that we now share such close quarters?" He tossed his head back lightly and laughed.

"Get out Malfoy! You insolent—"

"Ah, ah, ah! Hush up Mudblood, McGonagall wouldn't appreciate your tone. She is but down the corridor." Hermione cringed at his harsh words. Her honey-brown eyes alive with anger and a hint of something else. Malfoy moved and closed the space between them. Yet Hermione, her face alive with heat- did not budge.

"Miss Granger I do believe we can learn to play nice." His hand reached up and smoothed a piece of her hair. His face a picture of nonchalance. Her eyes widened and her mouth parted slightly in confusion.

"I can't say quite what's come over me lately…." He began.

"Pray! Tell!" She shot at him, becoming angrier than before. What was he doing? Why was he so close? There was no doubt a mutual hatred between them. This was hell! All she wanted was for him to be out of her sight. The sodding idiot that he was. And yet, there was a warmth that arose within her as he touched her lightly.

"Oh patience Granger." He scoffed as he put space between them once more. Turning on his heel as he made his grand exit.

"McGonagall has asked me to inform you that there will be a meeting to discuss duties tomorrow morning. 7:30 AM sharp in her office. You might have caught the bit of information if you hadn't scurried off like a first year to put all your goodies away." He shut her door gently behind him as he made his way down the stone hallway, lit by lanterns and adorned with happy photographs from previous years. As he entered the living room, he sighed and sat down in a dark leather loveseat in front of the fireplace, waving his wand and watching the flames grow higher.

"_What is this ridiculousness…?"_ He thought to himself as the flames warmed his body. Why had he asked this way? Never before had he asked on his lust in such a fashion. Especially not in regards to the fizzy-haired mudblood. Sure, he had had the run-around with plenty young women during his time at Hogwarts. But there always seemed to be an unrequited desire in the back of his mind. He had vowed however to never let it rise to the surface. She was a mudblood for heaven's sake! Must below him in all meanings of the word. Never could he allow these feelings to flourish. Never. And yet, there was this burning passion deep within him. A passion to make her his. To have her. Ravish her. _Own _her.

He sneered, his wand lashing out before him, putting the fire out before him, leaving the room dark and cold.

"Never." He spat outloud.


	3. Chapter 3 - Fireside

**Witches, Wizards, and Muggles alike,**

**I am happy to add this chapter. Having written it in-between classes, I'm sure there needs to be quite a bit of editing. But I am too anxious! Let me know how you feel and what you think! I welcome you all. Also, while this is all for the most part innocent, there is a slight bit of naughtiness. Nothing to be afraid of, mind you.**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter III

The mornings came and went slowly. Each new day seeming to stretch longer and longer despite the fact that the days were in fact getting shorter as autumn chugged along. His rank as Head Boy hadn't brought much new difficulty to his life. It consisted mainly of rerouting students, planning events, paperwork, and walking the corridors at night in search of delinquents. Nothing too out of his way, for he had often found his way into other people's business- only now it was his job.

While the work itself hadn't brought much difficulty, Draco had begun to feel the same hatred for the school as he had had when the Dark Lord lived. Laying in his bed, staring up at the stone ceiling, Malfoy couldn't help but scowl. The students, an unholy mix of blood. The classes seeming mundane and repetitive. He'd be damned to have to stay here much longer. Every second of every day he fought to rid images of his past from his mind.

Even in his sleep however, he was haunted by the horror that was Hogwarts. The deeds he had done. Forced to do. Perhaps even enjoyed doing at times- when it came to toying with Potter. But things had escalated for him in a way he hadn't realized possible. Before he knew it he was fulfilling some demonic, horrific prophesy planned out by the definition of evil itself. Now he couldn't walk halfway down Diagon Alley without his face appearing in the Daily Prophet. He couldn't pass through the hallway without receiving wide stares of confusion and anger.

He was hated, he knew. But he hadn't lived his live to be loved by anyone, so he wasn't going to start now. He shifted in his bed, the moon gleaming in from his window, falling delicately on his stone pale skin. His eyes reflecting the coldness he felt. With his hands folded behind his head, he sighed, images of his past playing through his mind. Images of his father glaring down at him. Voldemort grinning wide. The dark mark writhing in his skin. He shuddered, sitting up quickly and pulling up his sleeve to be sure.

"Damn…." He breathed heavily. His forearm baring nothing more than a faded memory. He stood now, padding quietly down the hall. The balls of his feet met with cold stone, and he shivered slightly. But as he turned the corner to meet the entrance to the main commons, he met warmth and light.

"Bloody hell, it much be past midnight…" He spoke softly to himself, squinting to see if someone was awake. A fire was crackling brightly, yet there was none to be found longing the seats adoring the room. He moved closer, his body relaxing slightly as the heat warmed him. Cautiously he made his way through the room, only to find a small figure laying before the fire on the floor. Curled up and breathing softly.

"Granger…" Malfoy smirked devilishly. Looking down, the young girl was clad in a soft pale-pink night shirt and shorts. Her small frame wrapped around itself, her hair a wild tousled mess spread across the floor. Her face angled towards the warmth of the fire, her skin an amber glow, and her pink lips parted slightly.

He breathed. Standing over her. Never before had he seen so much of her skin. Perfect and smooth. Her usually frazzled hair now falling in a curly mess that made his stomach turn.

"Granger?" He spoke softly, cautious to see if she would wake. She stirred none, and with this he crouched and sat on the floor beside her. His own skin warming, the fire dancing wildly before them. Oh god how he wanted to touch her. Simply feel her skin, her hair. He longed to know wha her lips might feel like upon his. Trailing along his skin.

He shivered. Scooting away from her in disgust.

"What in god's name am I doing?" He scolded himself, burying his rough hands in his hair. She was a mudblood! She was the enemy! Since the beginning she had been the entirety of what he hated. Prissy and a know it all. Always laughing, always loved by those around her. Potter and the Weasel practically worshipping the ground she walked on.

_And why wouldn't they? Look at her._

He lifted his head a moment, just as she shifted, her mouth parting in a sweet sigh as she rolled towards the warmth, her back facing him now. His eyes trailed down her frame, hoping to memorize the curve of her body. He leaned forward, breathing in the sweet, spicy smell of her.

"Malfoy…" He jerked backward, his heart racing at the sound of his name. Had she known he was there? How long had she known? He shifted quickly to find his footing as Hermione slowly and sleepily rubbed her eyes as she stretched. She rolled over again and propped herself up on her elbows, yawning.

"I thought I had heard you." She mewed quietly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He was standing now, his eyes wide with shock and fear.

"What the hell are you doing out here Granger?" He spat coldly. "Scared me half to death, finding you unconscious out here." His tone and volume woke Hermione up quickly, and she was soon picking herself up from off the floor.

"Pardon me Malfoy, but this common room is not yours! I have every right." Her chin tilted up defiantly, and Draco couldn't help but imagine trailing his hot mouth down her neck. He cursed under his breathe and turned her shoulder to her slightly.

"Good god woman sleep in your bed. I know your kind might be more accustomed to hanging around with the pests but have some decency. And put some clothes on while you're at it." She laughed at this, his attempt to insult her bloodline ineffective.

"Malfoy, I dozed off after a bit of light reading." She motioned to a rather thick book laying on the end table. "I apologize for getting you so worked up." She grinned wickedly, laughing as she closed the space between them. Her own boldness catching herself off guard.

"I wasn't fully asleep Malfoy. How long was it that you sat there with me? And just what were you thinking?" Her chin jutted up at him, almost as if it was a dare. His silver eyes narrowed, and the heat of anger and lust washed over him.

"Watch it, Granger." He said through his teeth.

"Or what?" She tilted her head, her hair falling to the side, leaving her shoulder bare.

"I don't think you quite understand the tenderness of your situation." He gritted his teeth as his eyes took in every bit of skin they could. "Don't tempt me mudblood, I always get what I want." As they spoke, almost as if unconsciously, their bodies had moved closer. When Malfoy broke away, storming back down the hall towards his bedroom, Hermione was left feeling cold wash over her. Her face scrunched with confusion and anger.

_What does that even mean?_

Hermione fumed as she made her way down the opposite corridor towards her own quarters. Her face was undoubtedly red with anger and embarrassment. She huffed, slamming her doors behind her, disregarding the early hour.

"That sodding idiot!" She breathed, crawling under her blankets and wrapping herself into a cocoon. Never before had she felt such a powerful anger. But it was anger mixed with something else. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to rid the image of Malfoy from her mind. His tall, toned figure pressed close against her. Hard and unmovable. His haughty mouth angering her, yet drawing her in as he spoke.

She cursed, her voice muffled against the sheets as she feel a sweet warmth wash over her and settle between her legs. She shifted, trying to dodge the feeling. But slowing, almost as if against her will, her hands slid down her body, stopping briefly to tease her own rosy nipples beneath her nightshirt. Her legs shifted with anticipation as her fingers found her center, and she worked herself into sleep, making soft sounds into the night.


	4. Chapter 4 - Against the Wall

**Friends,**

**I realize I tend to move things along slowly... but I do plan to quicken the pace and get things turning soon. I haven't written in a long while so these beginning chapters are sort of my way of getting back into the game. This chapter is a bit short, but its also my second posting of the day. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts! I'm currently trying to think of a good twist to really ruffle their feathers... ideas? More smuttiness? Angst? Fighting? Also I'm not sure if you guys prefer third person, or switching the point of view around between me, Draco and Hermione... Hmm...**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Honey-brown eyes flashed open, flecks of brilliant gold dancing in the soft candlelight gleaming from the corner of the room. It was morning, she could tell. Soft light peeked into existence from behind the heavy crimson curtains and there was the unmistakable song of the early morning chirpings, calling her to be awake. She moved from her resting place and quickly went through the motions. She bathed, put on her uniform, checked her face with a soft smile and was out the door before many students even had the inkling to wake.

Hermione almost always woke early on days like these. Sleeping to late wasted the day. Wasted her time. Time she could spend in the library, in class, studying. Anything else really, other than sleep. She valued its sweetness of course, but she was a determined young woman. Making her way through the winding corridors and stairways, she found herself in the Library, a wide smile on her face.

It was here that she set up post. She had a few hours before her classes started, and there wasn't much activity here this early. Picking up a book from the shelves she knew so well, her nose immediately met the paper and she was lost. So lost in fact that she didn't register the chair before slowly slide back to receive a presence.

Malfoy watched with an annoyed look on his face. Sitting there patiently as he watched Hermione's eyes dart back and forth across the pages, her knee bobbing slightly as she went – focused. Time ticked away, and he simply sat. His hands folded properly on the table, his posture upright and perfect.

"Granger." He spoke softly. Her knee suddenly froze, but her eyes did not leave the paper. It was clear however, that she had been startled. Especially when she glanced up quickly, only to dramatically roll her eyes.

"Yes?" She grumbled under her breath. "What can I help you with now?"

"Well, Granger," he began, resisting his signature smirk. "Have you forgotten so quickly? There will soon be snow on the ground. Isn't it our duty to plan events? As studious as you make yourself out to be, you've done very little work in preparation of the upcoming months." He said flatly. She groaned, slamming her book shut.

"Oh piss off Malfoy. I know very well you have no interest in planning anything of the sort. You are here to torment me. Tease me. Whatever you want to label it." She spat it a hushed voice, glaring at him haughtily. He grinned back at her, his eyes a picture of nonchalance.

"Oh please Granger, don't give yourself that much credit. You've filled out in recent years, sure." He lifted his chin and eyes her over. "But you're nothing special." The corners of his mouth turned up at the sight of her anger. Something about her fuming attitude really pleased him. He nearly lived to see her get worked up. The flush on her face alluring and beautiful.

_Beautiful?_

He frowned slightly. Had that word really crossed his mind? The mudblood could be attractive, she could be tempting. Anything! But beautiful….. He couldn't allow himself to think this way. 'Beautiful' was an attribute prescribed by a romantic lover. Which he could never be, even if he took her as his own…. Lovers they could never be.

"Oh really?" She straightened in her seat, shaking her curls from her face. "Is that so? Why then, have you been pestering me so frequently?" She tilted her head with a mocking smile. "Malfoy, we have never been friends. Or anything similar. And I doubt we ever will be. Since the beginning you have been my enemy. A blistering idiot and a man with an ulterior agenda." She suddenly felt nervous, working to keep her gaze fixed on him. But his stare was so burningly intense that she could barely keep her head from bowing.

"What are your motives exactly Malfoy? The school might have let you back in… but I know who you are. _What_ you are." She looked him up and down. "And I will not stand for this. For whatever reason, we have to work in close quarters… but that does not mean I have forgotten. Nothing has changed." She stood suddenly, feeling the desire to flee. His face was calm, and he stood with her.

"Don't." He spoke. But at the sound of his voice she made a motion to flee. His hand raised and grasped her wrist firmly, jerking her close, his face morphing to a picture of anger and spite.

"Do you have ears that can hear Granger?" He pushed her backwards, her back pressing against a shelf, his body covering hers. She was trapped, and the closeness of their bodies sent her heart racing. Warmth coming over her lower belly. "You'd learn well to keep your mouth shut when you know not of what you speak." His words came harshly in her ear, and her breaths came in shaky gasps.

"You will never know what I have experienced. The pain, the regret." His voice softened, as did his grip on her wrist. She looked up at him with a softness in her face, her bottom lip quivering. When his eyes met hers, he sighed and pushed away, cursing as he stepped off.

"Go back to reading Granger." He said over his shoulder. "And for the record… we may have never been friends. But I sure as hell never meant you to be my enemy."

He walked away from her coldly. His own words feeling slightly untrue, and very much a horrid confusing confession. He had worked to kill Potter. Worked doing the Dark Lord's bidding. But in the face of it all, he had been a coward. No – not a coward. He had felt empathy. Sympathy. He unfortunately had a blasted thing called a heart. In the face of it all he couldn't have done it.

Hermione blinked as Malfoy retreated, her heart beating wildly. Why was it that despite all they had been through… despite the distaste she had of him… there was something within her that longed for him in a way she had never felt before. Different from the way she wanted Ronald, or that Ronald wanted her. It was something much more primal.

It was hard for her to admit, but she could see though the evil shell he wore. She recalled the night her arm was carved into. The night Malfoy pretended not to recognize Harry. All the moments when in a moment of evil, she could read fear in his eyes. She stood alone now, eyes watering as more and more people filtered into the old library. Her head hung slightly and she wished only to forget.

Suddenly there was a chime of a grandfather clock, and Hermione was on her way. She did her best to rid the negativity from her mind, for it was time for Defense against the Dark Arts, a class that had turned out to be quite interesting with the new professor, Stellamordis. And today's lesson: Dueling.


	5. Chapter 5 - The Duel

**Witches, Wizards, Muggles,**

**So I wrote this one pretty quickly. It was fun for me to write. I might go back and make it a little more in-depth... but for now I like it how it is. From here on I want to develop more of their relationship... because I'm greedy for it! Sorry for the shortness of this one... I will be posting the next chapter soon. Let me know what you think and what ideas you have for plot twists or certain things you would like to see happen.**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter V

Words could not have described the anticipation and excitement that washed over the frizzy haired witch as she entered a room that opened up into a long dueling arena. From the sounds of it, her classmates had a similar feeling, being that there was a mass pushing and shoving to get closer. Their excited voices blending together into an unrecognizable noise that made it hard to think. Most of these students were younger than her, being that she was repeating a year, and she doubted many had had the same experiences as she had. Hermione felt confident.

"Here, here." A small yet powerful voice echoed throughout the long room as a small woman took post upon the dueling platforms. Her small frame ethereal and fairy-like.

"Hush up now." She laughed, her blonde hair twisting into intricate braids around the crown of her head before cascading down her back. Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

"For those of you that are unaware, I am Professor Stellamordis. Your new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. I am very pleased to have the opportunity to work with you fine young pupils, as I suspect you won't disappoint." Her voice was melodic, yet firm, and she stood with refined posture.

"Now, today I am going to be assessing some of your basic skills. This is in fact an advanced class. So I would like to assume you all have had enough time to refine your attacks, counter spells, charms and the like. Obviously, this is a dueling arena. Which means today you shall all be dueling." A hush fell over the classroom, and Stellamordis' grin widened devilishly.

"Don't worry. So long as everyone stays in one piece, anything goes. I simply want to see what skills you all possess. Now, who is up first?" She cooed as her eyes scanned their faces, all of which stared blankly up at her, unsure of what was to come.

"Anyone?" She demanded, her tone hardening. She folded her arms, looking down her nose. "You, Malfoy. You'll be up first then." She pointed him out and then searched for his opponent.

"Hmm, hmm hmm. I fancy we make this a bit of a tournament eh? Last one standing?" She guffawed aloud. "Well, last one armed I should say." She giggled, almost as though she enjoyed it all.

"Malfoy and…. You." She pointed at a frail, mousey looking boy. "Come up then, let's get started."

Malfoy of course had no real issue with being thrown up on the dueling platforms. He considered himself skilled in the area, especially compared to some of the greenhorns that filled the room. He strode to his station, and there was a nervous quiet in the room.

"That's not fair!" A voice rang from the back of the room. "Malfoy is a monster! He shouldn't be allowed!" There was a quiet, yet audible noise of confirmation. Stellamordis turned red at this.

"Hush up all of you!" She bellowed. "Get up her boy," She motioned to the boy she had chosen as his opponent. "I won't tolerate such ignorance. Begin!"

Hermione watched with a nervous twitch. Malfoy was indeed a skilled wizard. Though she doubted Malfoy had any intention of malicious play. But still, the young boy facing him seems out of his wits while Malfoys stood there – dark, calm, cool…. Collected.

It wasn't long before the first spell was cast. At first Malfoys opponents were disarmed with ease. He flew through student after student with little difficulty, and it was becoming more of a task than he had imagined. Stellamordis grew more and more furious with each one who was so easily defeated. It took time for the class to collectively gain morale and soon more put up a fight. Hermione however wanted nothing to do with the matter, and quietly kept sneaking further back into the line in hopes of not having to get up there and face him. Not because she felt she couldn't take him, but she couldn't be positive she would be able to look him in the face.

"Oh bloody hell! Come on now!" Stellamordis' hair had become frazzled and she shouted up at Malfoys opponents, offering them advice. With a huff she glanced around at the pickings.

"Granger. You…. You are a returned from last year. Famous practically. Get up there and let's see it." She grasped Hermione's small wrist and practically led her up the stairs. Hermione resisted with all she had but before she knew it, she was standing on the platform, facing the man she desperately wanted to escape.

"Granger." Malfoy smirked, his breath still even, despite the amount of dueling he had already done. He nodded his head at her before raising his wand into position. Hermione followed suit. She may have not wanted anything to do with this, but she would not be made a fool.

"Begin!" Stellamordis cried with excitement.

Almost instantly there were bright flashes, followed by shouts and cries from the onlookers. Suddenly the room was alive, dynamic, and exciting. Cheers began to bellow up, and the two upon the platform danced a dangerous dance of spells.

It continued, both of them heaving and glaring at each other with each spell cast. Malfoy seemed disheveled, and Hermione's hair more of a mess than usual. They were tried. They moved closer to each other, their spells slowly becoming less powerful as they worked to stay standing.

"Tired already Granger?" Malfoy spat, bruises forming where he had hit the ground. Her own face mirrored his, and she scoffed – wiping sweat from her face.

"I'm surprised you haven't run to daddy yet." She shot back at him. In that instant they both raised their wands and cast a powerful attack, causing them to shoot backwards, landing far away and on their backs. Their wands having flew out of their hands.

The audience grew quiet as Stellamordis stepped up onto the platform. Clearly, and disturbingly pleased.

"Well that was a duel!" She clapped excitedly. "Now… someone volunteer to help these two down to Madame Pomfrey. They are going to need it."


	6. Chapter 6 - Quite Feverish

**Witches, Wizards, and Muggles alike,**

**I am having a lot of fun writing this story. I hope this chapter gets things moving. I'm starting to formulate how I want things to progress…. So I hope it goes well. Please let me know what you think! This chapter is going to be a bit angsty… and a bit steamy also. Enjoy!**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter VI

Consciousness came to him slowly. At first all was quiet, but as time went on he could make out hushed voices, the scratching of quills, and the clicking of shoes on the hard floor. He was laying, propped up slightly. The light was soft, and the room smelled like herbs and clean sheets.

"Madame…" A soft voice started.

"No. This sort of thing cannot be tolerated Stellamordis." The voice that spat back was familiar… crooning and wise. McGonagall. "I will not allow students to be brutalized by each other as a learning device in the classroom. You let go too far." Her voice was stern, with a hint of worry.

"Headmaster. These students have faced much worse. And will face worse again in the near future. I'd be mad not to have them truly practice battle." The voice of the petite women was fierce now, her tone biting.

"Hush. Do not speak such evil. If you wish to maintain your position here, I expect my orders to be followed. Good day." The sound of swaying velvet was the only one to be heard as McGonagall made her departure. Stellamordis huffing and storming off in the other direction, slamming her fist on an end table as she left.

Malfoy stirred, his memory finally returning to him completely. With a groan he sat up, taking in the familiar sight of the infirmary.

"Bloody hell…" He stretched, his limbs aching. The duel had been much more than expected. He was exhausted after dueling one after another after another. But the real game had begun with Hermione. The picture of her fierce determination sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine.

"Malfoy." A voice came softly. He flinched, his head jerking in the direction it came from. Only to find Hermione buried in blankets in a bed not far from his own. Her bruises seeming to mirror his own.

"Yes Granger?" he smirked at her. Her wild hair splayed about her pillow and the blanket pulled up to her chin had her looking like a decapitated medusa. Except of course, Medusa did not look quite as delicious. He could however feel himself becoming stone.

"Why did you hold back?" She managed. Her voice was low, as achy as her body was. "You are much more powerful. I may know more spells…. But you are far stronger. I have no doubt you could have ended me if you had wanted."

Malfoy nearly laughed.

"Ended you?" he pushed a hand through his now tousled blonde hair. "What the bloody hell are you blubbering about?"

"Professor had allowed us to duel. It would have just looked like an accident…."

"Oh hell! Shut your mouth Granger. You're bloody thick in the head if you think that's what I'm out for."

She was silent. Unmoving. Her eyes avoiding meeting his.

"I'm not the same as I was before…." Malfoy sat back against the headboard. "I may not like it here. I may hate nearly every face that reminds me of my past. But I am not the same. You think they would let me back if they really thought I was out to kill? Avenge?" He was speaking to her, but in a way it was almost as if he was consoling himself. Convincing himself.

"I'm here to finish school. I am here to escape whats left of my family. I am here because had I not come here, I would be wasting away in a cold, empty manor. Spending my time counting the house elves as they cleaned blood and dirt of off what is left." Hermione stared at him now, her mouth hanging slightly open.

"What is it that you truly think? Hm? Come on Granger. You've never been afraid to spit it out before." He scoffed. "Not that I really need you to say it. I know you will never be able to forget what I have done to you and your friends. But let me tell you this. You may not ever forget. But you will heal." He looked at her now. His moon-silver eyes boring into hers. "But I will never be able to. Until the day I day, the memory of what I have done will be a fresh, open wound that never ever closes."

"Malfoy…."

"No. Don't speak. You will never understand. I see these walls. I see your face…. And I am reminded of the monster that I was. The monster that I will _always_ be. And I hate it all."

At this, the tears began to freely fall down Hermione's face. Her honey-brown eyes wide with sympathy and heartbreak. The man before her shining in a completely different light. She searched his face, desperate to find a hint of hope in him. But she came up empty.

Slowly she moved from the bed. Her legs weak and bruised, visible from the knee length cotton gown she wore. He watched her, his face hard and unmoving. Her heart raced as she neared him. Unsure of what exactly she was doing, or what exactly she was feeling. She had no idea if he would strike her in retaliation or simply stare past her in his hatred. But as she met his bed, she slowly pulled herself on top, moving over him cautiously. He made no move to stop her, simply stared at her face. Calm, but perhaps it was apprehension.

There she sat. One leg on either side of him. Her bottom resting lightly on his lower torso. Her hands clasped before her, fiddling with themselves in nervousness as she stared wide-eyed at him. He made no movement, his body frozen. His mouth pursed in a tight line.

"Well, this is different." He said finally, a deep harshness in his voice. His smirk was absent. Though internally he was screaming. Her soft weight driving him mad. Her sweet scent fogging his senses as he did his best not to focus on her wet, pink mouth trembling before him. What is god's name had gotten into her?

She learned closer to him, her eyes welling up with tears once more. The fragility of their situation screaming in her face.

"Please…." She whispered. Her breath warm against his skin. Her eyes were heavy low, her dark lashes blinking away tears as she stared down at his tense, strong forearm. The dark mark upon it faded now.

"Please what, Granger?" He was angry now. Fed up with this strange game she was playing. He grasped her wrists firmly and began to move her away, not ready to allow himself to be toyed with.

"Kiss me." Her words were spoken quickly, no more than a whisper. And yet his body froze, his eyes wide. He moved, staring her in the face, scanning over her blushing cheeks, wild hair, and passionate soul.

Draco Malfoy did not need to be asked twice. Then and there his grip relaxed, one hand snaking into her hair as he leaned forward. Her weight settled in his lap, and she had no time to rethink her request for his mouth met hers in a simple, cautious kiss that lasted no more than a few moments. But a few moments were all he needed, he pulled away slowly, raising his eyes to gauge her reaction. His heart raced now, and he could practically hear hers thumping out of her chest.

She was breathless. Her lips sweetly parted and her eyes remained closed as she savored the moment. The taste of him.

"... Granger…?" He said softly, his brows knitting into confusion as he looked upon her unmoving form. She gave no response, and with that his hands found either side of her face as he drew her in. Stronger this time, letting his mouth work against hers with passion. Slowly as first, but soon his mouth grew hungry as they worked together. She kissed him back, losing her mind in the heat of it all. Her own desire pooling between her legs as she parted her lips for his tongue to explore her. His hands fisted in her hair and her body molded against his, letting out a soft moan as his mouth left hers to tease her neck. The sweet sound rocked him to the core, his own body responding to the feel of her, aching to take it for his own.

There was a creak. There was a rattle of a doorknob. And in that moment they both froze, separating from each other in record time. Hermione nearly falling to the ground as she escaped from his lap, moving as far from him as she could before the door swung open to reveal Madame Pomfrey, cheerfully making her rounds.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy. And how are we feeling?" She tilted her head at them. "I'd say you both look rather feverish."


	7. Chapter 7 - Tears

**Friends,**

**So, I hope you all enjoyed that last chapter. I realize that because I was so excited to get their relationship moving, I left a few loose ends. So I hope this chapter sort of clears everything up. Things are about to get very complicated…. So please enjoy! Let me know what you think and what you want to see!**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter VII

Hours turned into days. Days turned into weeks. With everything she had in her, Hermione avoided Mas if he were a leper. Her actions nearly moving her to tears every time a flash of their exchange danced across her memory. It didn't matter to her that the thought of the feel of his mouth sent butterflies to her stomach – she was horrified and disgusted by her actions.

As a result, Hermione had conveniently been too busy to make meetings. She snuck to and from her room at odd hours so that she wouldn't have to see him in the common room. Her whole life had turned into a frightening game of avoiding Draco Malfoy.

"Hermione, are you alright?" She jumped, looking up from her plate of food to find the youngest Weasley smiling down at her with a confused face. "You haven't eaten in the great hall for weeks. Busy are you? Busy cramming your face full of food in a corner?" Ginny laughed, shaking her head. Hermione swallowed, ashamed that she had been so obviously caught.

"I… well… I…." She stammered, a flush rising up her neck.

"Is it Ron? Has he gotten a big head again?"

"No… I…"

"Well?" Ginny crossed her arms now, kneeling down to sit by her against the wall. Hermione sighed. She had always been able to talk to Ginny. With Harry and Ron gone, Ginny was her best friend here, and she loved her dearly. But it was so hard to open up to her about Malfoy. Hell, she could barely believe it herself…. Telling it to Ginny would make it all too real. The mistake was bad enough being that she and Ron had been sort of dating…. But with Malfoy? It was blasphemy. Especially since deep down inside, she had enjoyed it. The few times she had shared a kiss with Ron had been pleasurable… but nothing like what she felt with Malfoy.

"I just haven't been right in the head lately." She mumbled, pushing peas around on her plate. Ginny laughed.

"Well it's always sort of been that way hasn't it?" She elbowed her gently in the ribs with a soft giggle. "C'mon Hermione spit it out. I don't like this."

Hermione sat there, frozen. Her mind going a mile a minute as it tried to find the words, find the reasons. But no matter what, she came up blank.

"Ginny… I love Ron – "she began

"Oh! Bloody hell Hermione that's what you're all knotted about?"

"No… no! I just…. Well… Listen. I love Ron, you know. He is practically my best friend. I would never want to hurt him. But…."

"But….?" Ginny urged.

"But I made a mistake." Ginny's brows rose at this, her face suddenly becoming serious. "It was after I have to go to the infirmary… so I rightly think I was out of my wits…."

"And?"

"And I…. I kissed someone…" She bowed her head, tears welling in her eyes. Ginny suddenly burst out laughing, leaning over and holding her belly as she giggled.

"Hermione! Who?" She spoke between laughs. "You've gotten all frazzled over a silly thing like that?"

"Ginny its not funny! What will Ron say? What am I going to do?"

"Was it a mistake?" Ginny asked, calming down.

"Yes."

"Was it a mistake to both of you?"

"Well…." She paused. "Yes. Yes it was."

"So you don't have any feelings for this mystery person?" Ginny learned towards her. "And you can't lie." Hermione stared at her, her honey eyes wide and her brows knitting together.

"Define feelings…" she whispered.

"Oh no…. you're in it bad then. If you couldn't answer straight away it doesn't matter what I define it as. Hermione…. It may have been a mistake but your heart has been affected." At this, Hermione sobbed openly, her whole idea what this year would be was spiraling out of control.

"Oh Gin! What am I going to do?" She leaned against her fiery-haired friend and cried. Ginny followed suit, patting her head.

"You can run away from it, and eat outside forever. Or you can face it. Either way…. You've got to tell Ron." Hermione shuddered, the thought of Ron's heartbreak causing her tears to fall faster.

"Who was it, anyway?" Ginny asked quietly, her interest peaked. Never before had she seen her friend so worked up over something like this. Hermione was almost always strong and fearless. And she certainly never had any heart-wrenching problems like kissing the wrong boy.

"I promise Ginny, you don't want to know. And even if I told you, you wouldn't believe me." Hermione said between breaths, her voice hoarse.

"Well, don't worry about it you can tell me when you're ready… okay? C'mon 'Mione don't cry. It will all be okay…." Ginny's words touched her heart, and she only could manage crying more. Her whole body crumbling against Ginny, her plate off food dangerously close to crashing on the floor. How could she have let this happen? She was in a whole too deep to get out but she hadn't remembered ever picking up a shovel. Ron would hate her, she was sure. And if anyone know who her secret lover was, it would be the end of her. The very person they all shared a similar passion of distaste for…. Was the very man she longed to have again. They might as well stitch a scarlet letter to her blouse at this point.

The doors opened suddenly, Hermione too filled with despair to notice, but Ginny reflexively shielded Hermione from embarrassment as she moved to cover her face. From the door emerged the Slytherin Prince, clad in his usual attire made up of fitted class and expense. He looked different though… his eyes seeming to be tired, his hair tousled as though he has been in deep, stressful thought. He paced forward, stopping suddenly at the sight of the only Weaslette. He scowled, staring at her. Scoffing at her feeble attempt to hide the frazzled mudblood behind her.

"What got you all worked up Granger?" He said coldly, his heart wrenching. It was the first time he had had a good look at her since their moment together in the infirmary.

"Piss off Malfoy." Ginny replied, standing her ground. Hermione suddenly halted her tears, frozen in fear.

"Did I address you, Weasley? No, I believe not. Speak when spoken to." He stepped closer, his face a picture of anger. "What is it hm? Your darling Weasel not handle the news too well perhaps? Surely it couldn't have been too much of a surprise, being that I am obviously of higher status." Each word that he spoke, he immediately regretted. Had he not only just professed to her that he was not the same? Yet here he was, keeping up his old antics.

Ginny's mouth dropped, and she stood suddenly.

"What? What did you just day? How do you know….?" She shook her head, her eyes wide and she faced the snake. Hermione slowly picked herself up off the ground also, reaching out and grasping Ginny's hand, hoping to pull her away before her entire life crumbled before her.

"I wasn't speaking to you, don't you Weasley's know anything about manners?" He faced her, towering over her as his voice bellowed. But Ginny had no fear, and she resisted the tug of Hermione's hand.

"Ginny… please… let's leave…" Hermione pleaded helplessly, her head still bowed.

"Oh, Granger. I apologize. I just assumed you had already told her?" He smirked now, realizing the power he had in his hands. With this satisfaction, he stepped back, letting his hand slip into his pockets.

"Pardon me ladies… but I'd better be going. Sorry to interrupt." He nearly laughed as he turned on his heel, making his way down the corridor towards his next class. Ginny cursed under her breath, waiting until he was out of sight before turning to Hermione.

"Did that just happen? Am I going crazy? Why did he say that Hermione? Why?" Ginny shook Hermione's shoulders until her eyes met hers.

"You don't understand…." Hermione shook her head and her lip quivered as Ginny stared back at her. With that, Hermione broke away from her grip, making a hurried escape towards the Head Commons. The sound of Hermione's shoes beating against the floor was the only sound as Ginny stared after her, wide eyes and confused.

"What a bloody mess…." She breathed, pushing both of her hands through her hair with an exasperated sigh.


	8. Chapter 8 - It Meant Something

**Friends,**

**I hope everyone had a wonderful Halloween, Samhain, Harvest Festival, Dia de los Muertos, or whatever else it may be to you…. Even if it was just plain ol' October 31****st****. I dawned my Slytherin uniform for the evening as a 'costume'…. The muggles were none the wiser! Anyway, here is the next xhapter. Let me know what you think!**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter VIII

It was easy to tell that Draco Malfoy was not in the most pleasant of moods. He sat facing the crackling fire, his posture leaded forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His head bowed forward causing his white-blond hair to fall forward. She sighed, the flames dancing warmly across his bare skin of his upper body. He was disgusted with himself. A feeling that he was well acquainted with.

"Why are you doing, Draco my dear?" the voice he heard was not the one he had hopes for. He groaned and sat back in the black leather chair that sat in the middle of the common room.

"I couldn't stand it anymore." Malfoy returned in a dry voice, staring blankly into the flames. The dark haired witch scrunched her face, tilting her head as she moved closer. She lightly traced her fingers along his muscled, bare shoulder.

"Stand what?" She said cutely. He scoffed, leaning away from her touch. She retracted her hand, letting it fall to her side. She wore the dress shirt that seemed to be missing from Malfoy's frame. Her hair slightly awry and her cheeks flushed.

"I couldn't stand the sight of you." He said softly, turning his gaze forward once again. He had no interest in gauging her reaction. He simply wanted to stare forth at the flames before him, picking out the glinting tones of warmth that reminded him of Granger's hair in the sunlight or the spark in her eyes at just the right moment. His jaw tightened as he thought of her.

It was strange to him, how much he disliked Pansy nowadays. She had always fawned over him, and he used to always enjoy the attention. She had a good body and was a decent lover, but recently the very sound of her voice irked him. Recently her affection in public set him off. When she had appeared at his door earlier in the evening, he had hoped that she might clear his mind of the strange feelings he had been having for a certain mudblood. But all she did was prove to him that his feelings were there to stay. As he pulled his body from hers after the act was done, he felt nothing but emptiness, her sweet words and soft touch revolting him.

Pansy gasped at his words, her bottom lip pushing out. She raised a hand and let it fall harshly across his cheek. He let it happen, moving to stare up at her. Her dark eyes welled with tears and her face reddened for a different reason this time.

"How could you say that? After we just had a good shag?"

"Who said it was good?" He replied coldly.

"Why you little…." She crossed her arms over her chest now, her expression changing from hurt to outrage. She turned on her heal and retreated back down the hallway towards Malfoy's room. Returning a moment later haphazardly dressed in her uniform, his shirt bundled in her hands.

"You have really changed, Draco." She shot at him, throwing his shirt in his direction. Malfoy shrugged, looking forward. "I can't believe this! You know how far my room is! How could you make me go all the way back at this hour?" She pouted now. Despite her anger, she wanted so badly for him to look at her with love.

"Don't worry. I already did rounds for this evening." He looked over at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. "But Filtch will be passing making his way towards the dungeons in about a half an hour so I would put a pep in your step." Her mouth hung open, and she shook her head in defeat. She looked at him a moment longer before breaking out into tears once more.

"Why can't you even look at me?" She turned from him, hurriedly making her way for the door. Malfoy making no move after her.

The door creeped open just as Pansy laid her hand on the doorknob, Hermione tiredly pushing her way into the door, jumping with a soft peep as she collided with Parkinson. Hermione grumbled, eyes wide as she registered who she had bumped into. It was Malfoys pretty little play thing. Obviously departing after one of their usual rounds, being that her clothes were barely on correctly. She felt her heart burning.

"Move it! Filthy mudblood!" She pushed Hermione out of the way with her shoulder before practically running out the door. Had she been crying? Confusedly, Hermione shut the door softly. It was an early hour, but these days Hermione avoided walking about the commons at a time she might run into the Slytherin Prince. But as she padded softly into the main commons, her heart sunk.

The room was dim, the firelight causing shadows to play across the room. Before the fireplace was a daunting leather chair, the blonde sitting in it, his hair shining like white-gold. He stood suddenly, and her heart jumped as she backed slowly against the wall. Her breath caught in her throat. He was tall, the flames casting shadows along his body that hugged the stressed muscles in his back. His shoulders were much broader than she imagined, and she realized this was the first time she had laid eyes on his bare skin. The warmth of the room offset his usual paleness, and it all looked so perfect and smooth. Yet she knew if she felt him, her would feel like stone.

He turned slightly, and her eyes traveled up the contours of his front torso. Her heart skipped a beat, and every rumor she had heard about his Godly ways within the bedroom flashed in her mind.

"Ah. Granger. Never thought I'd see you here." His voice was surprisingly soft compared to the coldly delivered words exchanged with Pansy just moments before. He leaned down and retrieved his shirt, pulling it over him and slowing working up the buttons. She was relieved, but at the same time she longed to gaze upon his Adonis of a body for longer.

"I… have been busy, you know." She managed to say, barely audible even to herself.

"What was that?" He moved closer to her now, and she tried her hardest to disappear into the stone that met her back, but she could only flatten herself so much. "What is this? Hermione Granger showing fear?" He smiled softly, his tone warm, and strangely kindhearted. She relaxed slightly a blush coming over her face.

"Malfoy, I'm sorry but I need to go to bed…" She broke eye contact with him and moved to make an exit, but he stepped into her way, laughing as she bumped against him.

"Quit running from me Granger." He said softly. "I don't care how much you regret what happened. You can't keep up this game you've been playing. For your own sake. Since when did you let any one chsnge you like this. You're not acting the Hermione everyone knows." He paused, surprised at himself for using her first name. By the look of it, she was surprised too. It was the first time in either of their immediate memories that he had said it. And he rather liked the feel of it in his mouth, and he daresay it sounded nice to speak it.

"What makes you think you know anything about the real me?" She looked up at him now, her eyes burning. He stepped closing, looking down at her face. Wishing her pink mouth was on his again. Wishing she would make the request once more.

"Probably the same thing that makes _you_ think that _you_ know the real me." He retaliated. "I've only known since you were eleven. Not even that dimwit Weasel could get you to cower." He had said the wrong words, and he knew it immediately. For at the sound of the red-haired boy's name, her eyes widened, and her face suddenly was painted with worry.

"Hermione." He said firmly, and her gaze shot back to him at the sound of it.

"If what happened between you and me, means nothing to you. Save yourself the trouble… save Weasley the trouble and just forget it ever happened. I won't ever speak of it again" His voice had dropped low, and he made space between them, making his way towards his bed, ready to sleep off the mistakes he had made this night.

Once Hermione heard his close his door, she broke down and sighed heavily, feeling her eyes dampen.

She whispered in a broken voice to herself, "But it did mean something…"


	9. Chapter 9 - Dreaming

Witches, Wizards, and Muggles alike,

Sorry that this one is a bit short. But I hope you enjoy. Be warned that this chapter does contain some adult themes. Let me know what you think! Happy reading.

Love,

SweetSlytherinPrincess

Locomotive

Chapter IX

The scent of her intoxicated him. Her sweet and spicy aroma filled his sense and he was lost. His face pressed into her curly mess of hair, supporting his weight over her. She gasped as his hands met her bare skin, moving slowly up her sides until they met the soft weight of her breasts. He could feel her arch her back against him as he worked his thumb over her rosy peaks.

She raised her arms, letting them circle around his shoulder, sliding slowly over his muscles, up his neck and into his hair, and the back down to rest on his chest. He pulled up, gazing into her honey eyes before letting his mouth crash against hers. She was ready and willing, her wet pink lips parting for him as he worked against her. Her tongue shyly flicking out. He groaned and let his mouth completely possess hers as he shifted his groin to create friction against her core. She moaned, and he loved it. Wanting so baldy to hear his name tear from her throat.

He sat back then, a primal lust taking him over. Staring down at her body, she was flushed. Her hands resting above her head, her hair splayed wildly. Her lips were parted and swollen, her eyes heavily lidded as she looked up at him with a blush on her cheeks. Her legs wrapped around his torso, revealing her sweet flower too him. She was wet, and he could smell her arousal. She was a perfect picture of sensual beauty.

He reached down, keeping his eyes locked with hers as he let one digit slide slowly into her. She tensed a moment before her eyes shut and she moaned softly, her walls tight around him. He let out a guttural moan as he began to move, watching her writhe. He quickened, adding another in order to prepare her for the length of him. Soon she was openly moaning, her back arched as he pumped into her.

His hands left her and she moved towards him for more. With a smirk crossing his face, he positioned at her core, ready to take what he had been longing for. He pushed forward and then… - He woke up.

With a great gasp, Draco Malfoy came into consciousness, his chest heaving quickly. Sweat beading on his forehead. He sat up, wiping his brow and glancing around his room, in disbelief. It had all seemed so real. He let his hand wonderer down, only to feel the proof of what he had been dreaming. He cursed himself, angrily tossing his blankets to the side as he made his way towards his bathroom to take a cold shower. Something he hadn't had to do in many years.

As the cold water beat down on his shoulders, Malfoy hung his head in disappointment. Granger had begun to take over his life. He had her on his mind most of the day. And now she was working herself into his dreams in a way he had not been prepared for.

He could not for the life of him figure out what could have compelled her to do what she did. He doubted that she was much of a schemer, so it didn't seem plausible that she had done it all to see how he would react. Especially since she had not tried to use it against him. If anything, it seemed to be tearing her apart. Most likely because of her shame. Shame for hurting the Weasel. Hurting the Weasel with the one person no one would expect.

Malfoy had never been one to lose. He hated the idea of it, and now that Granger was so interwoven into his passions, deep down he had the near irresistible urge to win her. He had said to her plainly to forget about the incident if Weasley was really what she wanted. But she hadn't responded…. And he desperately wanted her to choose him. She wouldn't, he knew. Not without persuasion. But could he really bring himself to openly treat her romantically? It seemed so ridiculous. When face to face with her, he still couldn't help but revert to their old ways of spiteful banter.

Was this what he was meant to do? Get his act together and openly pursue Granger? Whisper sweet nothings? Escort her to her classes and be possessive? The word played in his mind. _Possess._ He liked the sound of it. He like the picture of her snuggled in his blankets as the sun rose, her dark lashed fluttering open. He longed for her affection. He needed it. And he would achieve it somehow.

He scoffed at himself, a fist falling against the tile in frustration. Since when had the Malfoy heir longed for affection?

_Always._

He shook his head. No. He was better than that. Not like some silly child. He had always been independent. No need for such things as love.

He knew he was lying to himself. And yet, no matter how he angled it, he was unable to picture himself as a romantic. Picture himself playing with her hair late into the night. He'd be damned the day she laced her fingers with hers and giggled like some ignorant schoolgirl. The scene did not include him in it. And yet he found himself wanting it so badly.

He let the water stop, reaching out to grab a towel and wrap it around his face. He stepped out of the shower and looked himself over in the mirror. He saw his tall, toned frame. A body that made it easy to get women in his bed. Pansy had left a few love marks, and his stomach turned at the thought of her.

Stepping forward, he rested his hands on the marble counter and stared at his face closely. He always seemed to look slightly tired. His eyes still a bright silvery blue color though that went well with the platinum locks that had gotten a bit too long for his liking as of late. With a sigh he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and began to dress himself again. It must be almost morning, considering how late he had went to bed. Luckily it was the weekend, and he had time to catch up on some sleep. All the heads were supposed to meet and get started on holiday functions, but all things considered… he doubted that was going to happen. Perhaps it was about time to make a trip on down to Hogsmeade.

He padded lightly back into his room, slipping slowly back into his large bed. He pulled the blankets up over him, and let the warmth of them drag him closer to sleep, hoping that Granger might let him get some rest this time.


	10. Chapter 10 - Teatime

**Friends,**

**Please let me know what you think of this chapter! I truly have delighted in every single one! Even though there are few, they really help me as a writer and they also make my day. Thanks for reading! It is a bit longer to make up for the short one I gave you yesterday. **

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter X

The quill quivered nervously as she attempted to put her thoughts down on parchment. A few drips of black ink dribbled onto the page, and she cursed beneath her breath, tossing the parchment to the side to lay with the heaping graveyard of failed versions.

With a calming breath, she pulled a fresh sheet and started once more.

_Ronald,_

_It had been quite some time since I've sent an owl, I know. Things here at Hogwarts have been busy, to say the least._

She paused, her mind flooding with all the possible retaliations to her confession. Was this the best way to tell him? It seemed cowardly…. But she wouldn't see him in person for quite some time. Especially since they were all vacationing in Romania again. As she stared at the words, she let out a frustrated sigh. They seemed forced. They seemed fake. How could she begin with normal conversation, only to lead up to her confession that would break him apart? How could she explain herself? There wouldn't even be any warning! It wasn't as if they had grown apart. There were no issues in their relationship. They were comfortable. And yet…

She tore the sheet away and shoved it into the ever-increasing pile.

_Ron,_

_You are my best friend. For as long as I can remember, you have been there for me. And I am so thankful for what we share. Right now I am going through a lot. It is hard to explain, but I haven't been able to be honest with myself. I have made mistakes, Ronald. At this point, I think it's best for the both of us to remain just friends, so that nothing gets broken. I know this is sudden. I wish I could explain more, but I would rather save it for when I get to see you again. Please understand, I love you._

_Hermione_

She stared down at her work. It was short. It was ambiguous. It wouldn't work. With each draft, she had the sense that she wouldn't have the courage to send it.

The deep burgundy curtains were drawn shut, but she could feel the cold morning air creeping in, and the birds chirped a happy song. She sat at her desk, still in her sleep clothes. She had dragged the blanket with her from her bed and had it wrapped around her middle as she wrote. As she worked, she heard quiet noise coming from the commons. Soft footsteps, quiet echoes through the fireplace as it was carefully filled with wood. It wasn't long before she could hear a spell spoken, followed by the sweet sound of crackling flames. She sat back in her chair, longing to feel its warmth. But she know who has lit it. She still couldn't bring herself to face him. His words still ringing in her head.

Suddenly there was a rapping on her door. She stood quickly, snatching the letter from her desk and crumpling it in her hands. Her heart beating wildly as she made her way to the door, letting the blanket fall to the floor. She pulled the door open only a sliver, peeking out to Draco Malfoy standing there with his best attempt at a casual expression.

"Granger. Tea." He nodded in the direction of the common room before retreating back down the hall. His hands in his pockets. She stared after him, aghast. For once, his hair was not perfectly sculpted. It fell tousled, unkempt. His feet had been bare, his attire still the same from when he had been sleeping. She blushed, shutting the door once more. Tea? He made them tea? Why in God's name did he think that was the way you invited someone? It sounded almost like a command. With a nervous sigh she pulled a forest green sweater on over her head, and wrapped the blanket around her middle once more. Glancing at her face in the mirror as she exited, making sure to rub the sleep from her eyes and run her fingers through her hair a few times before she made it to the common room.

As she entered the room, she stood off to the side. Her small hands clutching the blanket tight around her. She was sure she had gone pale as she spotted him crouched by the fire, fiddling with the kettle. Suddenly it occurred to her that she often saw him there, before the fireplace. Her last few memories of him were a picture of him cast in dancing warm shadows. It seemed odd to her, that he did so much by hand. Surely it wasn't necessary for him to set up the wood, prepare the tea. Perhaps he liked to do it on his own? But considering how much he spoke of pure bloodlines, she would have thought that pompous little Malfoy would have never raised a finger I his life. Not even to take the silver spoon from his mouth.

"Are you going to sit? Or just stand there?" She flinched, snapped from her train of thought. She hurried over, and pulled herself into one of the loveseats, pulling her knees to her chest and arranging the blanket around her for optimal coverage and warmth. Soon only her face and her forearms were visible from her cocoon she had fashioned. When Malfoy turned, he eyed her with a confused huff of laughter.

"Granger, you look like a child." He couldn't help but smile, her wide honey eyes peering up at him as she blushed.

"It's cold…" She replied softly, looking at the floor.

"Clearly." He moved over, pulling a few teacups from a cupboard against the wall. "Do you have a preference?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at her. She shook her head. With a shrug he picked a simple Grey and moved over to the whistling kettle, waving his wand to pull the kettle from the heat and pour the boiling water into each petite cup.

"Cream? Sugar?" He asked. She shook her head once more, and he scoffed. Shaking his head as he dropped lump after lump into the darkening water. Hermione raised her brows and the count came to five. He followed with a slash of cream. She stifled a giggle. The ominous and danger Draco Malfoy had a sweet tooth."

"Would you like some tea with your sugar?" She said softly with a grin. He shot a glance at her as he handed her the cup.

"Hush up, Granger." He moved back and settled into the black chair that faced her. His body warmed by the fire. She giggled once more before sinking deeper into her fortress of blanket, bringing the hot tea to her lips and sipping carefully.

"So, I assume you have something to say." She said in-between sips. He stared at her, his blue eyes boring into her. He set his tea to the side and interlaced his fingers, pensive.

"I'm offended you doubt that I could simply be showing kindness."

"There is always a motive."

"What was yours then?" He tilted his chin up, looking down his nose at her. She flinched.

"What do you mean?"

"What exactly motivated you to kiss me that day, Granger?"

"I…" A flush creeped up her neck, and she stammered. "I haven't been able to find the words to explain it yet." She looked away.

"Try."

"No."

He sat forward suddenly, His elbows resting on his knees. He was displeased.

"Listen to me. Granger. I won't settle for these games. What is holding you back? You've always been a woman who takes charge. Knows what she wants. Why are you so afraid? Because you will hurt Weasley? Because people with judge you? Or is it that you are unsure of how I will react? If I can even be trusted?" She looked at him now, her expression confused.

"I am nearly positive that you have feelings for me. Feelings that go beyond what you feel for Weasley. I think I excite you. I think that no matter how you try to deny it, you can't get me out of your head. It must be hard, I know. You are comfortable with the Weasel. Why would you give that up for someone that you're not even sure would return your affection?" He stood suddenly, and her eyes followed his movement. But the rest of her body was completely frozen with fear.

"Is that what it is? Beyond the judgment. Beyond the pain you would cause Weasley. Is it simply because you can't make the leap without seeing where you will land? Listen to me, Granger. And listen well. You give me the word, and I will make you mine. I can give you more than that red-head ever could. And I am willing to. So long as you would ask." His face was stone as he spoke, her face tilted up to stare at him. His own words surprised him. It had only been hours earlier that he had contemplated what to do. And here he was risking everything. Risking looking like a fool. All for a frizzy haired girl.

Her lips parted, her brain seeming to be at a standstill as she tried to process his words. She must have heard them wrong. Make her his? For the most part, she had labeled her infatuation with Malfoy as some weird category of lust and confusion. The idea of actually being with him has never seemed like a plausible outcome. She couldn't wrap her mind around it. And she sure as hell couldn't understand why he felt this way towards her.

"And I will have you know… now that the cards are on the table… it's too late to turn back. I have made up my mind about you Granger. No matter how you react right now, keep it in your mind that I will not stop pursuing you. I do not lose. He knelt before her now, leveling his gaze with hers. She shivered.

"Well?"

She looked at the ground. Her brain turning on, running at a mile a minute. She couldn't handle this. Nothing made sense anymore! She shook her head furiously and shifted to stand, but he grasped her shoulders and sat her back down.

"Quit running away." He said coldly. "Hermione Granger doesn't run away." She glared at him hopelessly.

"Malfoy – "

"My name is Draco." Her eyes widened, and she blushed deeper.

"Draco…. You can't expect me to have an answer…" She broke her stare, lowing her eyes. He reached forward and tilted her chin up.

"Accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend. Alright?" He said softly, leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on her lips. He stood then, moving to grab his sweet-tea before slowly exiting towards his own room.

She sat there, frozen. Her fingers tracing her lips a moment before she let the tears fall freely. Tears of fear and confusion. She stood then, retreated back to her own room, slamming the door behind her and pressing herself against the door in dismay. She glanced around the room, eyeing her desk littered with wasted parchment. She rushed over to it, shoving the useless pages to the floor before pulling a fresh sheet. What was this feeling? Her whole body seemed to be tingling, and her heart was beating out of her chest. Her stomach seemed to be turning over and over.

_Ronald,_

_I seem to be falling in love with Draco Malfoy. Please forgive me._

_Hermione._

Before she could change her mind, she called an owl, and send the letter off. As the owl disappeared into the distance, she collapsed against the window pane, her body shaking as she sobbed.


	11. Chapter 11 - A Few Rounds Later

**Friends,**

**This is my second update today, so I am surprised it's so long. Let me know what you think and what you would like to see! Thanks for reading, I hope you all had a great weekend!**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter XI

A cold wind dancing though his hair, causing him to shove his hands deeper in his pockets and bury his chin beneath his green and silver scarf. He stood, tall and daunting in front of the road sign that directed towards Hogsmeade. As usual, he wore mostly black, his thick jacket seeming to be professionally tailored, his shoes perfectly shined.

He stood there, brooding. Scowling at all the smiling faces that passed him. She was late. He had sent her an owl with specific instructions and yet here he was, waiting. Would she show? He began to feel a nervous tick start up in his eye. Draco Malfoy does not wait around. And he sure as hell would not be made a fool of.

Just as he had made the decision to go on without her, he saw her small from appear in the distance. She wore boots and odd looking muggle pants_. Jeans_. A soft white button up and a matching cap and scarf that was a deep magenta.

As she neared, he noticed the flush on her face. Most likely from the harsh wind as she hurried towards him. As she closed the space between them, he began to notice that something was different about her.

"I'm sorry I'm late." She said, the leaves crunching beneath her feet as she met him. He immediately began down the path, giving her a sideways glace. She walked beside him, but not too close. Her eyes fixed on her boots as they walked.

"What have you don't differently?" He inquired, his forehead scrunching. She blushed, looking away.

"I don't know what you mean." She said flatly.

"Your hair…." He leaned towards her, inspecting it. "You've styled it? Your curls aren't quite as frizzy. And you've applied makeup?" His eyebrows raised as realization washed over him. She still looked quite natural. Perhaps a bit of lengthener on her lashes. A soft pink tint on her lips. It was simple, but more than she would ever wear on a normal day. It must have been quite the task to tame her hair.

"No wonder you were late." He straightened again with a wide smile on his face. "All this for me, Granger?" He teased. She crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pursed in a tight, annoyed line.

"Oh don't get that way." He leaned his mouth towards her ear then and whispered, "I like it." She jumped, shifting away from him. With a smirk, he shoved his hand sin his pockets once more.

"Now that you've got that out of your system," she breathed, "What exactly are we planning on doing?"

He grinned then.

"Well. I figured we have a lot to talk about. And Hogsmeade is the one place were nearly everyone will see us together. I figured it was a good way to get you used to the idea.

"You mean used to the stares?"

"Whatever you want to call it, I guess."

"So we are basically going on a publicized date?"

"Well," he began. "I assume you knew it all along. Being that you got yourself all dolled up."

"Oh get off it Malfoy." She grumbled.

"Why are you so embarrassed? I told you I liked it. It's a good feeling. The woman you desire taking the time to impress you."

His words replayed in her head a few times, and the color of her scarf seemed to bleed with the blush that played across her cheeks. It put a knot in his stomach, seeing her react to him this way. How desperately he wanted to feel her skin. To have her naked body splayed across his own. And even so, he wanted to see her smile. He wanted her to accept him.

"Malfoy…. This is damned near the craziest thing I have ever done." He laughed at this."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration don't you think?" He elbowed her softly and she giggled. Her demeanor slowly becoming more comfortable.

"No… no I swear. After all this time…" she shook her head with a smile as she gazed at the ground. "All these years, and I would have laughed… no…. vomited at the idea of all this."

He slowed his pace suddenly, surprising her. He turned to gaze at him with a confused smile.

"Granger…" he began with a darkness in his tone.

"Not Hermione?"

"Hermione… I… Since we were kids, we have never gotten along. But as an eleven year old, I had no idea of what my future held. I hadn't the slightest clue of how our fates would intertwine. When we were young, my words were not backed by hatred. I was a pompous young git with a schoolboy crush." He laughed suddenly, pushing a hand through his hair as he caught up to her.

"Granted, I disliked you all the same. A mudblood that I was raised to believe was below me in every way, and yet you excelled in ways I never could. I had idiots for friends… and there you were, the Gryffindor Princess, constantly surround by people who loved you. While I always felt alone. Especially as I grew older, and my destiny and family affiliation with the Dark Lord became more clear. It scared me. All my life I had wanted to end up different. But all I could ever do was sink deeper into a life of solitude and… and I hated you for it." It was his turn to stare at his shoes, and Hermione took the role of staring at his face. Studying his emotions.

"My point is, Hermione, that while there was bad blood between us, and I have never been in favor… I have always just been an idiot who didn't know how to be given a chance. I let jealousy and hatred take over my life. Instead of letting myself be a normal person, I became obsessed, usually with no other option, with appeasing my family. And my life was ruined because of it."

"You're wrong." She said quickly. "You didn't stay that way. You're here now. Your mark has faded… you've separated from those you controlled you and now… now you're here… with me…" Her voice trailed off at the end, and she suddenly felt childish.

"I suppose you're right." He sighed, his breath forming a foggy cloud. They had reached the entrance now, and suddenly a wave of fear crossed over them both. Hogsmeade a bustling and alive with people everywhere. Halloween decorations lining the streets, students' excitedly bustling from place to place. They slowed to a crawl, and the tension was obvious.

"You're the one who invited me." Hermione whispered. "Why are you all choked up?" He cursed under his breath.

"Look… I have a reputation. Aside from the one that classifies me as evil… I have never been seen doing something like this."

"Something like what?"

"_Dating._" He scoffed. And she laughed quietly. "Since year one, It's not been a secret that we were not fond of each other. It's a strange feeling, erasing all that in a matter of seconds. Don't deny that you don't feel it."

"We could turn back." She suggested, half seriously. He turned to face her, a cocky smirk on his face.

"You wish." He laced his arm through hers, and started forward – Hermione doing her best not to faint he she bowed her head low. Malfoy however maintained his usual formal posture. His shoulders squared as he walked. His face an even slate that was read to shoot evil stares at any who were deserving.

"What shall we do first?" He asked her. "I can't say I've ever had to entertain a young lady."

"Oh, please. We all know your other _reputation_." She spat.

"Do tell."

"Everyone knows that the Slytherin Prince has no trouble with women." He smiled at this.

"Granger, having women in my bed does not mean I treated them beforehand. It's not my style." She shook her head at him, doing her best to avoid eye contact with passersby. But she could feel all the stares upon them.

"I'd say a few butterbeers are in order then." She grinned up at him, and his heart wrenched. His hearts immediate reaction was to try and deny it all. His brain listed off horribly rude things to say to her in order to guard himself. But he fought it off.

"Sounds like a plan." He said, leading her off in another direction. "The Three Broomsticks or Hog's Head?" She tilted her head.

"Broomsticks has a better tap I'd say." She said, and he nodded as they headed towards the small pub. Soon they found themselves within the walls of the student-friendly pub they had grown up knowing. Headed turned as the entered together, but Malfoy quickly stole off to a table in the corner. It was warm, and the two of them found themselves removing their scarfs and unbuttoning their coats.

"What can I get for you?" A waitress called to them. Hermione grinned widely.

"Two butterbeers." She exclaimed.

"Make one a bit strong, eh?" Malfoy added, and Hermione quirked a brow. The waitress nodded and was off, returning not long after with the warm frothy drinks. She set them on the table and was off again. Almost immediately Hermione had the mug to her lips, drinking it down as though her life depended on it. When the mug was nearly half gone, she set the mug down with a please sigh, licking the foam from her lips with a smile.

"Well then…" He laughed, sipping his drink slowly. She laughed, and soon they were talking back and forth as if it had been a normal thing for them. Time chugged along, and soon there were a few emptied mugs on the table from the both of them. Malfoy's face warm from the extra firewhiskey. But for the first time ever, they held an ongoing conversation that didn't include spiteful remarks. They were laughing. Their knees often touched innocently from underneath the table, and the both of them failed to notice the glaring eyes from across the room that had been eavesdropping the entire time.

"I'm going to excuse myself for a moment if you don't mind." Malfoy stood politely, and she nodded as he made his way over to the loo.

She sighed, resting her face in her hand with disbelief in it all. Her heart fluttered, and she felt closer to Malfoy than ever. He all of a sudden seemed so much more reachable. So much more human…

There was a tap on her shoulder, and she turned with bright eyes and a smile, only to meet the harsh strike of a hand across her face. She gasped and stood angrily, facing her attacker that was none other than Pansy Parkinson.

"So you're the reason Draco refuses me now?" She shouted, pushed Hermione back by her shoulders. Hermione's memory flashed back to the night that Parkinson had retreated from the common room, her eyes filled with tears. Realization washed over her, and for a moment she felt pity. But she didn't have much time because Pansy had taken another leap at her. Hermione moved, pushed herself away and towards the door to retreat. The last thing she needed was to cause a scene. Especially as Head-Girl

"Get back her you filthy mudblood!" Pansy cried as she chased her like a raging bull outside onto the pathway. Hermione breathed heavy, her wand pointed forward.

"Back off Parkinson!" She warned, but Parkinson only laughed and drew her wand in return.

"Draco is mine! And always will be! I will not have him stolen away but some scheming mudblood whore!" She waved her arms and a fierce blue light shot forward, but Hermione defended with ease. A crowd began to form, and Hermione was dismayed.

"Steal? Don't flatter yourself Parkinson. He _left!_" She shouted back, on her guard. Pansy was red with rage and soon flashed exploded from her wand one after another. Hermione blocked and blocked but as Pansy neared her, the power behind her attacks was overwhelming and she was caught in the stomach, sending her flying backward into the groaned.

"Bloody hell!" Malfoy broke through the crowd, immediately understanding the situation. He rushed forward, grabbing Pansy around the middle and tossing her off Hermione. As she fell backward Malfoy shouted Stupefy and she was unarmed.

"Get the hell out of here Parkinson. I don't want to see you around Hermione again." His tone was dark and threatening, and Pansy stared up at him with wide eyes before picking herself off the ground and escaping through the crowd.

Malfoy turned to Hermione, cautiously lifting her up off the ground. She groaned, her pretty white coat scuffed with dirt.

"Are you alright?" He said to her softly. And she nodded weakly as Malfoy supported her weight on their trek back home.


	12. Chapter 12 - Did She Now?

**Witches, Wizards, and Muggles alike,**

**How do you all think this is going? I hope this chapter makes things a little more exciting. Let me know what you think! I'm not quite sure yet how Ron will play out in the next few chapters… but I'm excited for it! Happy Monday!**

**Love,**

Locomotive

Chapter XII

SweetSlytherinPrincess

With each step that they took, Draco became more and more infuriated. Every time a quick movement resulted in a pained groan, he wanted desperately to make Pansy pay for what she had done. He knew from the start that she was a bit off her rocker, but the night he told her off he hadn't imagined this would be the result. It was his fault in the end… but Hermione was a far better witch in every respect. Pansy was more or less a blooming idiot in his eyes. Her spells had been powerful, but no doubt blindly fueled by her rage - rather than any sort of refined skill.

They trudged up the stairs, Hermione's strength growing weaker as they neared the Head Commons. Why the hell did it have to be so high up? Malfoy cursed, and quickened their pace to catch the correct staircase before it changed its direction. Finally they had made it, and Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

"Pixie Puff." Draco said. The door swung open and he rushed hurriedly inside. He made his way over, and set Hermione gently down in one of the loveseats. He rushed, waving his wand quickly allowing flames to burst into life within the fireplace. Once again he found himself preparing tea. This time one of his own concoctions. Something his skill in potions class had equipped him to make. With ease, he added a few specific herbs to create a rather potent pain reducer. He didn't make it too strong, and added a few sprigs of mint and a bit of lemon to make it a bit more palatable. As the water boiled, he turned to Hermione, who sat slumped in the chair with a pained scowl on her face.

"Sit up, now." He said softly, pulling her into a more upright position. She cringed. "Do you want to go to the infirmary?" He questioned. She simply shook her head and he sighed.

"Well we have to assess the damage." He reached forward and pulled off her magenta scarf, immediately seeing an array of burns from where the sparks that had met her bare skin. He cursed, tilting her head up to get a better look. With a shake of his head he began to work apart her coat buttons. With a gasp she lifted her hands to push his away, a blush creeping up her face.

"Oh get off it Granger. If my intentions were anything other than helping you, you would know. Now knock it off." He shooed her hands and worked the rest down, gently pulling the dirtied white coat off of her. He tossed it to the side with a quick '_scourgify_' incantation. As the coat landed, it was returned to its pretty pure-white state. Hermione's head snapped up.

"You can do wandless magic?" She gasped. He hushed her and turned her to the side so she could lay back.

"Is it your stomach?" He asked, cautiously grasping the hem of her blouse and pulling it up, stopping at her ribcage. She nodded in pain, and her face grew to a bright red.

He cursed, looking down at her belly. Her whole middle had transformed into an ugly mess of black and blue. The bruises were darkest where they had met bone, her ribcage practically outlined by royal colored skin. As were her hipbones. Her middle was the most worrisome, however. The bruises most unusual. Taking the shape of colored dye when dropped in water, swirling and wispy… rather than a typical bruise.

"Well, bruises aren't a difficult fix. But it all comes down to if you have any internal damage." He said, returning her blouse to its proper place as the water began to whistle. He moved from her side and added his special mixture of herbs to the boiling water. A few minutes later he poured the liquid into a small cup, its color a strange misty purple. He added a spritz of lemon, and handed her the tiny cup.

"Drink up." He said sternly. "It's not the most delicious but you will feel better. Sleepy, perhaps. But better." She took the cup from his hands and brought it to her lips, blowing on it gently until it was safe to drink. The second the liquid hit her tongue she gagged, pushing the cup away from her face with a scowl.

"I said drink it." He demanded, moving towards her and pushing the cup to her lips once more. She drank, her forehead scrunched in distress. But soon it had disappeared, and he set the cup aside. With a sigh, she lay her head back. Her eyes glazed over, as if she were daydreaming.

"How do you feel?" He asked, quirking a brow.

"I feel alright." She said, closing her eyes.

"Yes. It seems to have worked. You're going to be a bit sleepy…." He laughed softly, and lifted her blouse once more with no protest. He studied her bruises carefully… it didn't seem as though there was any internal damage other than deep bruising. It would be a painful for a while… but there wasn't much of a choice. He grabbed his wand and waved it in small circles around her middle. She starred at him with lidded eyes as the bruises slowly faded. After a few moments of repeated incantation, her belly was as smooth and creamy as it had always been.

"It's still going to hurt… depending on how deep your bruises went. But I will keep making you tea and you'll be able to make it through the weekend. Alright?" He glanced at her, receiving no response but a sleepy smile. He let out an exasperated sigh, and took the seat beside her. The flames warming him.

"Why didn't you just give her a good one? She was unscathed. I know your skill. Hell, I experienced it not long ago…" he asked her, looking at her sideways. Her expression a bit dazed, her cheeks flushed.

"Well… I couldn't exactly blast her to hell considering I'm Head Girl. Oh the trouble I would be in."

"It would have been justified, I'd say."

"Just because you say it, doesn't mean that how it will be." She giggled. He smirked.

"Most of the time, it is." He retorted, turning to face her. "Look, Granger. I'm sorry that all this happened. I won't allow it again. Understand?" She tilted her head with a sleepy smile and nodded. He sighed and stood suddenly, realizing she wouldn't be useful for any type of intelligible conversation much longer.

"Come on then." He said, reaching down and lifting her from the couch. She giggled softly and wrapped her arms lazily around him, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck. He stiffened, quirking a brow. Her soft breath causing a shiver to run down his back.

"I think I made that tea a bit too strong." He grumbled, making his way to her room, pushing the door opened with ease and moving to lay her in her bed. She slumped down into her pillow with s sweet sigh, snuggling into it immediately. With a shake of his head he grabbed a hold of her feet and worked her boots off, setting them carefully in proper order on the floor beside her bed. Her arms were splayed about and she was beginning to make soft sleepy snores. With a roll of his eyes he lifted the blanket up over her, leaving his hands beneath it as he unhooked the top of her jeans. She made no movement, so he continued to carefully pull them down and slip them off her feet. The whole time cautious to keep the blanket over her. Once they were free and folded them nicely and set them next to her boots.

"What a child." He laughed, tucking the blankets in gently around her before quietly padding out of the room as her snores grew in volume. He shut the door with a soft click and returned to the common room just as a nervous rapping started against the main door. He cursed, rising from his seat and making his way over to the door, opening it widely to reveal a rather exasperated looking Ginny Weasley.

"Can I help you?" Malfoy said curtly, blocking the entrance with his tall, sturdy body.

"Where is Hermione? I need to speak with her."

"She is sleeping."

"Well I will wake her then. It's important." Ginny said, pushing her way forward. Malfoy stood his ground.

"No you will not. She won't be bothered." Ginny narrowed her eyes and him and stepped back with a huff.

"Look Malfoy. You don't understand. Ronald is furious. He got her owl and is planning a trip here immediately. She needs to know!"

"Who cares if he is coming? That information can wait." He said with an annoyed tone.

"Listen to what I am saying! She told him, Malfoy! She told him she chose you over him." Ginny pleaded. Malfoy blinked in surprise.

"Did she now…?" A smirk crossed his face as he pondered this, and Ginny gave an infuriated groan.

"Yes! Things are not going to be pretty, and I know she won't be able to handle it all!" She pushed forward again but Malfoy still did not budge.

"Well, little Weasel. I appreciate the information. But being that she is recovering, I can't let you in. I will handle it. I do believe it is my duty now? Isn't it?" He smiled wickedly, and Ginny raised her hand in an attempt to scold him, but Malfoy shut the door promptly.

Almost immediately Ginny began to shout, her tiny fists beating loudly against the dark wood. Malfoy cursed and threw the door open once more, his wand at the ready.

"_Silenico_." He said softly. Ginny's voice was quieted, and he shut the door once more.

Malfoy returned to his favorite seat once more, pulling the chair to face the flames. So the Weasel was paying them a visit? Malfoy threw his head back and laughed. Now he knew how she really felt. And now he felt that she was rightfully his. Malfoy did not lose. And he would not allow anyone to get is his way. Especially not the good for nothing Ronald Weasley.


	13. Chapter 13 - Choices to be Made

**Friends,**

**I am so excited to keep this story moving. But a bit nervous as well! Let me know what you think!**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter XIII

Hermione awoke several hours later to the insistent scratching of an owl at her window. She groaned, the soothing effects of Malfoy's tea having worn off. With a huff she pushed off her blankets and kicked her feet around to the floor, surprised to find her boots and jeans neatly folded. She blushed, examining her bare legs.

"Did…he…?" She covered her face with her hands and screamed. How could he have done such a thing? Sure, she saw the kindness in it. It is of course most uncomfortable to sleep in jeans… but bloody hell! The pecking at the door came more rapidly, and Hermione pushed her embarrassment aside to walk over and throw open the curtains to find her owl returned to her. A crumpled piece of parchment tied to his foot. Her breath caught in her throat, and her hands shook and she unlatched the lock on the widow, allowing the beautiful bird to enter. Slowly she untied the letter, nearly dropping as she broke the wax, her heart practically beating out of her chest.

_I don't know what the bloody hell is wrong with you. Is this a joke? Think this is funny? Do you? Hermione, you'd better be joking. Otherwise I'd think you mad. I've left Romania early. I'm coming to Hogwarts as soon as I get the chance to make sure you're alright. _

_I've heard that both of you got placed as Head Students. I'm sure he's done something. Is he meddling? That bastard! I swear Hermione if he has touched you, I'll kill him. I will. Don't bother writing back, I'm sure I'll be there before it would reach me. Oh, and I haven't told anyone yet. In hopes that you're just out of your wits._

_-Ron_

The second she finished reading, she shrieked in anger and tore the letter apart, letting the pieces fall to her feet. She began to pace suddenly, pushing her hands worriedly through her hair. What was she going to do? The second she began reading, she could hear his voice. And it pit a sour taste in her mouth. It had barely been any time at all and yet Ron's impish way of talking disgusted her. Since when did he think he had the right to talk to her that way? Sure, she was irrational and outrageously rude in the way she had confessed… but she didn't expect him to drop everything and come tom Hogwarts. Did he really intend on confronting Malfoy?

"…_If he has touched you, I'll kill him."_ The words replayed in her might and she cursed again. Touched her? What did he think? That she was some easy slag? She could handle herself. She made the decisions for herself. As she paced, the pain began to radiate at her middle, and she bent over, holding her stomach with a groan.

"Hermione?" She looked up, hearing Malfoy from outside her door.

"Don't come in!" She squeaked, hurrying over to her wardrobe to pull out a pair of plaid pajama pants – struggling childishly to pull them on over her slender legs.

"I heard you scream? Are you alright? I've got some water over the fire. I'm sure you'll be needing some soon." There was concern and suspicion in his voice. Hobbling over, Hermione opened the door to find Malfoy staring down at her, now clad in comfortable clothes. He eyed her, glancing at the open window, then the owl perched on her desk, then to the ripped up paper on the floor.

"Weasley?" he asked with a dark note in his voice. His eyes were on her again. She nodded and he let out a huff.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Granger." He said, annoyed. She tilted her head at him and followed him out into the warm common room. He had been keeping the fire alive all these hours. It was well after dinner time now, yet she doubted he had eaten.

"What do you mean?" She asked softly, easing herself carefully into the loveseat.

"Weasley thinks he has some sort of power over your decision. He doesn't. So don't let him. What did the letter say? Some threat? Pleading perhaps? Honestly I doubt he even believed you."

"How do you know what I wrote?" She said, her face reddening.

"The Weaslette told me. I'm sure she head it down the grapevine."

"She was here?" Hermione's voice perked up. Malfoys tone remained detached and cold.

"Yes. Right after I put you to bed. She came to tell you that her brother was on his way. And he is not happy." Hermione sighed, burying her face in her hands. Just as the kettle began to whistle and Malfoy moved to prepare her another round of tea, her head snapped up.

"Oi! I know you had good intentions, but how dare you undress me without my consent!" She exclaimed. Malfoy's back was to her, but she could practically feel him smirking from across the room.

"Oh please, Granger. I didn't look."

"Like hell you didn't." She shot back angrily.

"Hermione. If I had looked, I would have done more than just look." He said coolly as he dropped herbs into the piping hot water. She blushed. "I kept the blanket over you, so I didn't see anything, alright? Calm down." He turned to her, and she had no choice but believe him.

"I made it much less strong. So you won't be as sleepy. I'm sorry if there is still a dull ache though." He handed her the cup, and this time she sucked it down without question. He took the seat across from her and studied her intently.

"So. What are you going to do?" He asked, folding his hands properly.

"What do you mean?" She asked, her body warming by the fire, a tingling sensation waving through her as her body processed the potion.

"Well. Are you going to break down and run back into the Weasels arms the second he raises his voice?" Malfoy said.

"Oh. Scared are we?" Hermione mused, her eyes lidded now. The corners of Malfoy's mouth turned up, and Hermione's heart couldn't help but flutter at the sight of him. _Sexy. _

"I don't the scared is the correct term, but go on." He said flatly, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"Well. I wouldn't have gotten myself into this mess in the first place if I just intended to fall right back into place. Now would I?" Her voice trailed off, and she looked away in embarrassment. He grinned at this, and moved over to her. His knees resting on the ground before her as he took her hands in his.

"Tell me then." He spoke, and she responded with a confused look – her breath hitching at his sudden closeness.

"Tell you what?" She managed.

"Tell me that you'll have me. That you mean it." He stated, staring deep into her eyes. Her brows knit together and fear flashed across her face. His hand lifted to her face, this thumb brushing her cheek.

"Say it to me, Hermione. And I will do all I can to make you happy."

"Malfoy… I…" She stammered, failing to make eye contact with him.

"Tell me now. Or go back to your beloved Weasel, it's your choice. But I won't stand up for what is mine until I know it really is." His voice was stern, and yet soft somehow. She felt as though the world was crashing down upon her. He couldn't really expect her to make such a bold claim… it seemed so dramatic. But as her eyes rose to meet his, a strange feeling washed over her. Her heart melted and she leaned into his touch.

"Draco…." She whispered, closing her eyes. He smiled then, and rose up to her level, his mouth taking hers. She leaned back, her lips partly sweetly allowing him deeper access. His hands tangled in her hairm and her arms moved up to circle around his neck. He moved against her, his mouth hungry and earnest, but always maintaining a sweet gentleness. Her heart beat out of her chest and her body nearly shook with excitement, a lustful moan escaping her once he broke away. The both of them out of breath. His stood, smiling.

"I will take that as a yes. Yes?" He pushed a hand through his hair and stared down at her. Her eyes still closed, her body flushed.

"Yes." She said quietly.

"Yes, what?"

She opened her eyes.

"Yes… I mean it."


	14. Chapter 14 - Under the Table

**Friends,**

**I usually find some time in-between classes to post a new chapter, but I was unable to get this one up until just now. Sorry about that! I hope you all enjoy this one. Let me know what you think! Oh, and… things get a little risqué for a moment… so be warned.**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter XIV

The weekend came and went, Hermione's days spent almost entirely in bed or lazing near the fire. By Monday she felt almost completely recovered, save for a few aches when she turned a certain way. While her injuries had healed, she constantly worried about her situation. She was constantly on edge, and still wondered if she was half mad. Logical thinking told her to get over her silly crush and stay where she was. Logic told her that Malfoy was dangerous, untrustworthy.

But since that day in the infirmary she say something buried deep within him. She saw a glimpse of his soul. And there was no turning back. Through his wicked smirks and harsh tone, she saw something soft that yearned to be accepted. Perhaps that was what drew her to him in such a way. She herself seeking acceptance, whether it be consciously or subconsciously. It was part of the reason she studied so hard. So many looked at her as though she couldn't accomplish the same things because she came from a muggle family. Hell, even Malfoy. Her heart felt connected to him. She wanted so badly for him to feel accepted, wanted, _loved._

It was no easy task, and she doubted herself every moment. Each day she walked through the halls and met suspicious stares – rumors spreading like wildfire ever since they had walked through Hogsmeade together. There were plenty females who shot her threatening glances. Plenty from her own house who felt betrayed. It even went so far as a handful of boys – usually Slytherin – calling her a tart as they passed. Perhaps getting the idea that what had gone on between her and the Prince was far more than innocent.

None the less, Hermione held her chin high the best she could. And she actually hadn't seen much of him lately. Her class load was substantial, as was his. And Hermione spent much of her time in the Library. They few times they had crossed paths, her heart fluttered, and she knew he could tell. Never before had she noticed how well he could read people. How his brooding stare was often times his way of picking people apart. If she watched closely, there were little changes in his expressions that gave away how much he really knew. Especially that dashing, mysterious smirk.

It was time for potions. Hermione's practical shoes clapped loudly and echoed through the stone walls of the dungeon. It was strange for her, with the new professor. She didn't know of Snape's true intentions until after his death, so she never had a chance to experience his presence without her underlying suspicion. Now it was Professor Tantibus. From day one, Hermione was made uneasy by her. And it wasn't because physically, she was the exact opposite of Snape. No, it wasn't that nearly every young man's eyes' in the room were glued to her pouty wine-colored lips. It was simply that her name in Latin translated to _nightmare. _

Despite the name however, Professor Tantibus had never given the impression that she had the intention of living up to her name. She was strict, perhaps… but taught well and Hermione felt slightly more challenged than previous years. But Hermione stayed on her guard anyway, perhaps foolishly.

"Welcome, welcome." Tantibus' accent was floaty and warm. "Please hurry to your seats, we have a lot to accomplish in a short amount of time today." She called, her mocha eyes dancing with amusement. She stood tall and straight, the upper half of her robe seeming to be made of sturdier fabric that was cinched tight and buttoned all the way up. The bottom half, while still the same pitch black color, the bottom however, flowed elegantly and was soft looking to the eye. Her hair was loose, her chocolate heavy curls pulled in front of her shoulders, falling to about her waist.

"Please open your textbooks to page two-hundred-sixteen and look over the instructions a few times while we wait for everyone to arrive."

Hermione flipped open her book, and read swiftly. From the first word she knew what they were making. It was Veritaserum. A few drops and the drinker cannot tell a lie. She smiled, excited to get to work. But she tilted her head and shot her hand into the air.

"Yes, Granger." Tantibus said.

"I thought the production of this potion was highly regulated..."

"You're right. It is. I have gotten permission from the ministry to teach you to make it. Though, not one of us truly think any will turn out. Those that do, if any, will be confiscated immediately."

"Oh, I see." Hermione's eyes went back to the text, and she read excitedly. So excitedly that she barely noticed a body slip into the seat next to her. Her brows knit together as she read, the ingredients and procedures being quite advanced and lengthy. Some also, rather dangerous. Her hand fought the urge to strike into the air. He knee began to bobble and her hair seemed to frizz up as she read it over again. She suddenly felt something press against her leg, and her head shot up.

"Calm down." Draco Malfoy sat beside her, his body practically glued to hers. His hands were folded neatly on the table, his face a perfect picture of amusement as he watched her stress over an assignment that hadn't even started. She didn't need to ask to know that he was laughing at her internally. With a scrunched nose she shot her tongue out at him before tossing her head in the other direction. His eyes grew wide at the sight of her childish response. But he laughed, his blue-grey eyes sizing her up.

"Everyone hush up. Class has begun. If you've just recently entered, we are all on page two-hundred-and-sixteen." There was a classroom-wide shuffling of paper as most students rushed to find the page. Many of the young boys hoping to impress the goddess-like woman that stood before them.

"Now. If you look over the ingredients required, you will see that many of these items are not readily available. Also, take note that this potion needs a lunar cycle to mature. As such, this isn't something that we will be finishing today. As a matter of fact, it will take much of the rest of our time together. This potion is highly advanced. The techniques needed to brew it giving us enough material to cover for quite some time." Her voice rang loud and clear though the dark classroom. She paced slowly around the front, waving her arms gracefully as she spoke.

"For the next two months, all of you will be collecting the items needed in order to brew this potion, and then preparing it in phases. You may select a partner. I don't care who, but you have the next sixty seconds. Go." As she finished speaking, the noise level in the room grew as every stood and chattered to find a partner. Hermione moved to stand also, only to feel Malfoy grasp her writs tightly before pulling her down into her seat. She huffed, glaring at him as she hid a grin.

"Alright, alright." Tantibus mused. "Now the first section of items shouldn't be too difficult to acquire. Please read through them, Chapter thirty-four, section twelve and chapter forty-two section seven will discuss the items in more detail and help you along the way. Please work with your partner to draft an essay on the specifics of the first five ingredients. Their whereabouts, uses, side effects, and history. It should be in my hands by the next time we meet. Carry on."

Instantly Hermione move and opened Malfoys textbook to the first chapter mentioned, and her own to the second. She furiously took notes, her eyes darting to and from each book. Malfoy watched in amusement, carefully reading what she took down.

"I'm surprised you don't already know this stuff." He said.

"The first few are pretty rudimentary. But taking notes again helps refresh my memory. The last few are a bit more foreign to me." Her tone was serious, and she didn't falter in her movements.

"Of course." Malfoy rolled his eyes and leaned in his chair. As he watched her, his heart grew warm. She was the same she always had been. Flustered and serious with her nose stuck in a book. Her hair falling wildly about her. The only thing different was that he wasn't sneering at her from across the room. With a glance around him, he noticed everyone was focused on their work. Most struggling a bit more, some bantering back and forth about the best way to go about it all. Malfoy smirked, and leaned closer to his partner, who barely seemed to notice.

"Why do you always insist on sitting in the front row?" Malfoys breath was hot in her ear. She jumped, distracted finally.

"I like it." She said simply, moving slowly back to the paper, freezing instantly as she felt a warm hand cap her knee. Her eyes narrowed, and she eyed him with a frown. Yet, his gaze was forward, paying no attention to her as his free hand slid an open book closer to him. He leaned forward slightly and began to read, his hand moving up slightly, his fingers drawing small circles on her inner thigh.

She blushed and attempted to move her leg away but he quickly held on to her, his expression never changing as he pretended to study. Her mouth hung open and she began to stammer.

"Hush your mouth and get to reading, Granger. I won't be doing this project on my own." He said to her, loud enough for many to hear. For a moment she stared, her entire face a deep red. But soon she moved, pulling the book close to her, burying her nose in it once more. Her heart raced.

But she didn't process a single word. For Malfoy had begun circling his fingers on her tender skin once more, slowly but surely growing closer to her middle.

"Malfoy…" She whispered, but he did not look at her. "I don't think…. It's a good idea…" Her voice was nervous, and she could see the tiniest smirk on his face. Despite her protest however, her legs gently widened as he neared her core, as soft gasp escaping her lips.

He grinned openly then, recovering by turning the page, as though he'd been diligently reading. His finger traced the outline of her panties and soon gently rubbed her most sensitive center. She shuddered, her legs reflexively attempting to close, but he pulled them wider once more.

His heart sped up. His fantasies running wild. There they were, the front row. The professor working at her desk, classmates surrounding them. And yet he had Hermione melting at his touch. Hermione! The practical, holier than thou, goody-goody. He could barely contain his excitement! As a matter of fact, as he stroked her once more, he felt the dampness seeping through the soft fabric, and his own manhood began to swell – straining tightly against the dark fabric of his trousers. He tilted his head back, and looked at her sideways. Her face was a hot mixture of guiltiness and pleasure. Her mouth parted and her eyes shut tight as she clutched her textbook fiercely. He let his fingers stroke her lips and he felt her shiver, the wetness beginning to transfer to his fingers.

Malfoy wasn't new to the idea of such acts. However, before he had always been able to contain himself. But now, here, with the Hermione Granger – he wasn't sure if he could continue much longer without having to outright throw her up onto of one of the desks without a care who saw. He suppressed a groan and hooked his fingers within the seam, desperate to feel her skin. She tensed, but the second a finger traveled sensually up her wet slit, she practically melted into her seat, a quiet moan escaping her mouth. He could practically taste her arousal.

"Alright class." Tantibus spoke, and Malfoy withdrew his hand from Hermione immediately, but kept it in his lap as to not reveal the evidence of his delinquent act.

"Time is up for today. Continue to work on this for the rest of the week, as your grade hinges on this project." She nodded, and everyone began to shuffle their things away. Tantibus moved towards Hermione, her expression puzzled.

"Miss Granger, are you quite alright?" She spoke. Hermione jolted to attention and nodded her head fiercely.

"Y… yes professor. Just a bit feverish as of the morning, I'd say." She hurriedly gathered her things and stood, Malfoy watching her with a smile. Tantibus glanced at him then, a smirk forming on her face as she eyed him over.

"Mr. Malfoy, do try to not let Miss Granger do all the work." She motioned to his notebook, which remained black. Malfoy nodded his head.

"Yes, professor." He replied, grinning with a sense of accomplishment as Hermione rushed for the door, her face flushed.


	15. Chapter 15 - Intruder

**Friends,**

**I am going to try my best to update as frequently as possible… but I have my Japanese mid-term coming up as well as two essays to write for English. So, I'm a little bit busy at the moment. Creative writing and writing this story is a way to help me relax and is my way of having fun. So I'm so happy that even one person reads it. Every review makes me so excited with the notification pops up in my inbox. Thanks again! Wish me luck!**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter XV

His chest heaved dramatically as he shot up from his resting place. His platinum locks sticking to his skin in a layer of heated sweat. She had been in his dreams again, like she had been nearly every night. It didn't matter if he was awake or sleeping, her amber flecked eyes and golden-chocolate hair remained a perfect picture in his head. Hey eyes, always burning with passion. Her lips so inviting and warm. Everywhere he went he longed to breathe in the spicy-sweet scent of her and taste it on her skin.

This time however, the dream went a little awry.

He had been laying beneath her, staring up at her face which was distorted in perfect sensual bliss. She rocked against him, her hands planted on his strong chest and he had a firm grasp on her soft hips – guiding her. Even in his dream, it felt so real. It wasn't until he had woke that he realized he lay alone in his chambers.

She moaned gently as she moved herself up and down, her breath coming quick and her arms shaking. He had pulled her forward, laying her head in the crook of his neck as he allowed her to rest, his own hips taking over the responsibility as he pistoned into her core. His hands moved up hers sides tenderly, and he spoke sweet word into her ear as her soft walls clenched around him.

But as his hands tangled into her hair, his body preparing to release, the make on his forearm burned with raging agony. The pigment was dark and clear, and before he knew it the snake had begun to take form from his skin. The serpent slithered out of his arms and tangled itself around Hermione's neck, its body growing larger and larger by the second. Her screams echoed through his head until her air way was cut off completely. And yet, to his horror, he simply laid there beneath her, making no move to protect his princess.

Malfoy kicked his legs off the side of his bed and made his way to the bathroom. His heart rate still wild as he leaned over the counter, turning the sink on to splash his face with cold water. Now, Malfoy wasn't one to take every odd dream and pick it apart piece by piece in an attempt to figure out some prophesy or divination. No – he was much more practical in than that. But he still could not deny that dreams were the minds way of sorting things out. Relieving itself. What did this mean? Was his subconscious trying to cope with the strange alteration in his feelings towards her? He couldn't be sure, but he was shaken up. He pushed some water through his hair, before making up his mind to just shower. It would wake him up permanently, but he had no desire to sleep again after such an episode.

As the water his skin, he sighed at the relief of finally getting to take a hot shower. Most of the recent ones had been cold, as Malfoy refused to satisfy his sexual cravings with any ol' slag that was willing. Especially not Pansy. Hermione and he were not quite to that stage yet, but he still considered himself taken. And to be honest, after getting a taste of her, everything else repulsed him. As a result however, his hunger often went unfed – and he found himself grumbling as ice water slammed against his skin at early hours. But today, it was a treat. The water turning his skin a bright red as she scrubbed himself down.

After his shower, he dried off, wrapping the soft cloth around his middle as he moved to the sink once more to remove the small amount of stubble that had appeared on his face. Granted, and facial hair he had was nearly the same light blonde, but he always liked to keep himself proper looking. He patted his face dry, and with a relaxed huff, he made his way back into his room, only to be met by a certain red-haired git standing in the middle of the room.

His window was wide open, and a broom stood propped against the wall. Ronald Weasly stood smugly in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets. His hair was windblown, his cheeks a bit red. And while his posture was not on the defense, there was a certain spark in his eyes that told Malfoy that the Weasel had not intend the little visit to be a happy one.

"Up a bit early, are we?" Ron said. Malfoy felt sick to his stomach as the voice of his voice reached his ears. He knew already why he was hear. To make some speech about Hermione. To get territorial. To claim what he thought was his. Interrogate him too, probably.

"What do you think you are doing here? You've tracked in dirt." Malfoy smirked, looking him up and down. Unfortunately, Malfoy had not had any reason to bring his wand with him, so it lay a good deal out of reach on the end table. Ron huffed, and stepped closer.

"Malfoy, I think you know quite well why I am here."

"Yeah? Here, at four in the morning. Coming in through my window. Do you fancy yourself some sort of Romeo? Did you wait until you heard me leave the shower?" Malfoy laid a hand on his chest and tilted his head as he spoke and Ron only made a disgusted face.

"Oh shut it. I couldn't very well go through the front doors." Ron began. "And I figured you would be asleep. It would have been easier to teach you a lesson."

"How honorable."

"You know nothing about honor. Brainwashing another man's girl."

"Brainwashing? Don't give yourself that much credit. She came to me, Weasel." Malfoy saw no threat, and made his way over to his wardrobe to slowly dress himself in a casual black pullover and pajama pants. He cared not if the Weasel saw. He had no issues with self-confidence, and the red-head had grown quite chubby anyway.

"I don't believe you." Ron's hands clenched and his lips drew into a tight line.

"I don't give a damn what you believe." Malfoy suddenly turned and closed the space between them. His face suddenly angry.

"You listen to me, Weasel." His voice was like poison. And Ron faced him head on. "I don't know what power you think you have over her, but be assured that there is none. If you think you're just going to walk in here and raise your voice at her… you're wrong." R

Ron opened his mouth to speak but Malfoy interrupted.

"Shut up. You're here. Trespassing. Coming in my room to what? Rough me up?" Malfoy laughed then and pushed Ron a step back. "You've got some courage, Weasley. But not much wit. Even though you're armed and I'm not, I have expect any spell you cast to backfire… you'll be throwing up slugs any minute."

Ron's face turned and angry red, and he shot forward, fisting the front of Malfoys shirt as he pushed him towards the wall.

"You stay away from her, you snake. She'd never in her right mind chose you. Don't you ever even think about touching her."

Malfoy made no effort to move, he simply smirked wickedly.

"I won't stay away. And she did choose me." He said calmly. Suddenly Ron's fist swung backward, only to drive forward and strike Malfoys chin. He only smiled wider.

"Oh, and I not only do I think about touching her… I _do_." Malfoy's eyes sparkled, and he took great joy in the Weasels reaction. He could see denial cross his face. Then worry. Then fear, and anger. His first drew back again and stuck twice. Malfoys lip split slightly, and blood began to dribble down his chin. And yet Malfoy made no move. In his mind, there was no need to battle. He had already won.

"You're a lying bastard." Ron shouted. And suddenly Malfoy worried Hermione would hear. His attitude towards her had changed, but he'd be embarrassed if she saw him exercising his own tactics on someone else.

"Face it, Weasley. She's not yours. Sure, she loves you. But you are her friend. And will stay that way. I have her heart." Malfoys hands shot up then, grabbing a hold of Ron's collar and practically lifting him from the ground. His teeth grit and he silver eyes pieced into Ron's.

"Now. Get the hell out of here." He shoved him backward, and took the moment to rush over and grab his wand of the table. It was immediately pointed at the red-haired intruder. Ron stood now, breathing heavily and staring at Malfoy with blood rage in his eyes.

"If you think you've won some sort of power. You are wrong. Hermione will never be will you." Ron moved over, and picked his broom from the wall and climbed up onto the windowsill.

"See you soon." Ron said over his shoulder before jumping into the early morning sky. Malfoy watched him go, and was positive he would be paying Hermione a visit in the very near future. With a groan, he wiped the blood from his chin and went back to the bathroom to wash himself up once more.

"Damn…"


	16. Chapter 16 - My Woman

**Witches, Wizards, and Muggles alike,**

**OH my goodness! I awoke this morning to find that I got two reviews! TWO! I was so excited! It's the little things in life, right? Anyway, in the hour before I have to go to work, I am here in the busiest part of campus writing away. Granted, no one is hereyet… because why would college students be up this early? At any rate, please enjoy. I appreciate those that review!**

**Also, this is random but the other day I was thinking about how cute it would be to have a love story about Seamus Finnegan's parents. You know, "Me dads a muggle, mums a witch. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out." I don't think we ever learn anything more but I think their story would be a great one! Someone should write that….**

**Well, I will stop blabbing. I'm excited to get the next few chapters up.**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter XVI

The weekend could not have come fast enough for Hermione Jean. Despite her internal worry, each new day was filled with suspense and excitement for her. After what had happened in potions class a few days before – while she did harbor some embarrassment and guilt – she also felt liberated and excited. Never before had she fathomed herself as someone who would do such a thing! She'd been breaking the rules at Hogwarts since day one, but never in this sort of way.

She laughed at herself for feeling so giddy over Draco Malfoy. Much of her still unable to wrap her head around it. But she figured the sooner she stop fighting it, the sooner her stress levels would go down. It was difficult, though. Still in the back of her mind she felt as though it was all some big joke and the carpet would be pulled from under her at any minute.

And then there was Ron. Well, not just Ron – the entire wizarding community. Hermione had gotten lots of publicity, being given such honors after the war. In a way, she was famous. Nothing like Harry was, but people still approached her randomly. Malfoy had a similar situation. His family name very much damned – his face flashing across the Daily Prophet quite often. It would cause a commotion if for some reason the people upstairs got word that a member or the order and a former servant of the Dark Lord had an ongoing romance. The Weasley's would surely think her mad. Though, she felt that with enough explaining to Harry, he would accept it. Ginny too.

But Ron….. Oh Ronald! Her heart would surely break at the sight of him. His hurt, his pain. How betrayed he must feel. And it was all her fault. Many nights alone in her bed she tried as best she could to erase the picture of Malfoy, and replace it with the red-head…. But it never worked. Whatever romantic feelings were between them before had seemed to flicker out as the fire was ignited elsewhere.

Hermione sat before the mirror, raking through her hair in an attempt to calm it into a more pretty fashion. She let her curls pull forward, and held some to the side with a pretty braid, finished with a modest clip. She studied her face. There was a light dusting of freckles. Her lips a soft pink. She shuffled around a moment and moisturized her face, trying her best to apply the tiniest amount of makeup. A bit on her lashes, soft rogue. She then dressed in a hurry, making sure to dress warm. Then she hurried for the door, spritzing a bit of perfume as she exited.

With a pep in her step, she made her way through the vast, twisting corridors of Hogwarts until she made it outsid – most of the halls having been empty due to the early hour. A little way down the path, she saw him there. Tall, straight. His broad shoulders squared perfectly. He dawned all black, with the exception of his Slytherin scarf wrapped perfectly around his neck. In the cold autumn morning he stood there, his breath coming in crystalized clouds. There was a pang in her heart as she neared, the sight of him bringing a warmness to her heart.

"Good morning." She said with a wide smile. He turned to her, his brows raising and a smirk playing at his lips.

"Good Lord Granger. He are hunting for ingredients not going to a party." His hand reached up and caressed her cheek as he laughed. She blushed and straightened as though it didn't matter either way to her what he thought.

"Yes, well. Let's get started then." She paused, her eyes squinting. "Draco, what ever did you do you your face?"

He blinked innocently.

"What? Am I not devilishly handsome?" He asked. She gave him a rough push at his shoulder and scoffed.

"Your lip."

"Ah. That." He traced the small yet rather unattractive split that was in the left corner of his mouth. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm worried."

"I said don't."

"Too late."

"Get off it, Granger."

"What happened?" Her eyes were smoldering, and he looked at her with an annoyed scowl.

"Hermione," He began. "Please, let it be for a while." His voice was even, and stern. She sighed and shoved her hands in her pockets as they started off down the path to begin searching for the first ingredient needed for the project. The walked a long way, mainly making small conversation and poking fun at one another. After quite some time, they found themselves surrounded by beautifully twisting trees. The growth on the forest floor blooming up around them.

"This seem like the place?" Malfoy asked, a bit unused to the wild outdoors.

"Yes, see there?" She pointed. "See how all the brush is a deep green, almost purple. That's a sign."

Malfoy smiled at her, and she grinned back.

"Well this wasn't that difficult."

"No. But it's the first ingredient. Plus, it's the preparation of the root that is the real challenge."

"Well I had planned on being out here all day." He said. She tilted her head. "C'mon. Let's sit." He led her over to a fallen tree, and the sat down upon it easily. Malfoy pulled a parcel of wrapped crackers and an apple. He handed her a few, and pulled a small knife from his pocket to begin slicing the apple up for the both of them. She munched happily, her legs swinging.

"Hermione." He said, handing her slices as they became available.

"Mhm?"

"Weasley is at Hogwarts." Hermione froze, and stared at him. "And I don't mean the female one."

"Well obviously!" She huffed, dropping her hands in her lap. Her head bowed.

"Don't worry about it." He said, moving closer to her. She shook her head. "I'm serious. I've already warned him."

Her head shot up and she stared at him with fury.

"Warned? You mean you met with him already?"

"It wasn't welcomed, trust me." Malfoys face tightened, and he felt anger pulse through his veins. Hermione turned to face him, and her hand came up to feel the side of his mouth.

"That's where this is from?" There was worry in her voice. Malfoy sighed, and Hermione did not need any further confirmation. She pushed her hands in her hair and groaned. "I'm so sorry…."

At this Malfoy laughed and Hermione blinked at him in confusion.

"Don't be sorry, love." He began with a grin. "Look, the Weasel showed up in my room. I'm sure he had a better speech prepared, but he basically went on about how you were his and I need to stay away."

"And you said?"

"Obviously I told him he was severely misinformed." Hermione smiled softly and looked forward, a certain sense of gladness washing over her. "He got huffy, I let him take a few bashes at me, and then he left. I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away."

Hermione grinned, turning to him again. What was that she heard? An apology? She didn't even think the word was a part of his vocabulary.

"So, what will you do when he comes to you?" Malfoys voice was tight, and his eyes locked on hers. He was surprised to find that she was beaming up at him, a cute smile on her face.

"I'm a big tough girl…" She started.

"You will cry."

"Yes, perhaps."

"I'm positive." Malfoy said with a roll of his eyes.

"Well, I'm sorry that it's a bit heart wrenching to break your best friends heart with the worst news he could imagine. I think the only thing worse would be if it were Harry instead of you." Hermione said with a tartness. Malfoy smirked.

"So you're my woman then?" Hermione's mouth hung open, and a flush crept across her cheeks. His eyes bore into hers, searching for an answer.

"That's a very odd way to say it…" She stammered, break his stare to look at the ground.

"Answer me."

Hermione shuffled her feet.

"No one has ever wanted to label me that way…" Her voice was soft.

"What did Weasley define it as then?" He questioned.

"Well, I don't know. We never put a label on it I guess."

"What an idiot." Malfoy scoffed. Hermione frowned, uncomfortable with his rudeness. "When you have something so precious… so important... You must claim it before it is whisked away from you." He leaned closer to her and tilted her chin up gently.

"You see, a woman like yourself is something to be prized. And a woman like yourself needs to be reminded that she is worth everything. Not cast to the side with no real idea of what she is." Hermione was confused, but too entranced by his gaze to worry about it.

"Hermione, you are mine. My woman. Soon you will be my lover. All of these things. There is no question. You won't need to lay awake at night and wonder what exactly this all is – or means." Malfoys tone was soft yet stern, and his eyes grew cloudy with a flavor of lust as he watched her reaction. He leaned in and closed the space between them, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

"I know it will be hard for you to say now. I understand. But soon you will have to profess it to me. That you are my woman, and I am your man." He stood then, disliking the vulnerability of their current conversation. AS he shoved his hands in his pockets, he casually walked over to the patch of fantastically colored brush and inspected in carefully. When Hermione didn't follow, he turned to gaze at her over his shoulder.

She was crying. The black she had carefully applied smudging down her cheek.

"Oh, love… what's wrong?" He said, shaking his head. She wiped her face and rushed towards him, throwing her arms around his neck as she sobbed.

Never had they embraced. He'd kissed her. Had her in his lap. Had his hands between her legs. But never had they engaged in such an intimate and personal act. He was stiff for a moment, but soon relaxed and wrapped his strong arms around her tiny middle and buried his face in her hair – breathing in the intoxicating smell of her that mixed with a pleasant muggle perfume.

"Thank you, Draco." She said in a muffled voice against him.


	17. Chapter 17 - Death of Me

**Friends,**

**Thanks so much to all of you that take the time to read this. I'm currently trying to crank out a chapter while I listen to the Les Miserables soundtrack… and cry over it for the millionth time. If anyone was wonder how long it would be until it got really juicy…. I'm not entirely sure. Since this wasn't a smutty one-shot… It wouldn't make sense for them to get right to business. But I'm excited for it! So we must both be patient. I think it should be sometime soon. At any rate, here is a bit more drama for you.**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter XVII

He stood in the middle of the common room. Gazing around at the objects strewn about. In his rage, he had flipped the coffee table, the small teacups crashing to the floor. He knew they had drank it together. Two cups, one stained with lipstick.

Lipstick? Since when had she worn lipstick? Rage surged through him as he rages about the room. He slipped books from the shelves and tossed them violently across the room as he made his way towards Hermione's room.

He easily unlocked the door, opening it wide to find most of her room in proper order. The only mess being in the corner on her desk. He strode over and realized immediately that the mess was a mass of papers. Her drafts. Looking over them, he cursed and threw them to the floor.

The red-head could barely think. Why in the hell would a school let a boy and girl live in such close quarters? He didn't give a damn what Malfoy claimed, he knew in his heart Hermione must have been persuaded somehow into this foolishness. It was only months ago that she returned to Hogwarts. Had he asked her that day her feelings for the ferret, she should have responded with disgust. And now…. _This? _Ron Weasley shoved his hands through his hair and suppressed a scream. He loved her. He'd always loved her. But a pompous git gives her attention while he's away and suddenly he felt his sanity slipping out of reach.

Her heard voices – two voices. Laughing. Happy. And then came the turn of a doorknob, then their footsteps started down the hall. Ron's heart pounded, his body beginning to shake. A few seconds seemed like years, but then he saw her. Her hair tamed, her face girlishly done up. Very rarely had he ever seen her this way. She froze at the sight of him, the bundle of bright purple roots dropping from her hands to the floor.

Malfoy groaned, reflexively taking a step in front of the petrified young woman. His posture straightened and he stared fiercely at the red-head, almost as a warning.

"Good to see you." Ron spoke, his voice harsh and wavering. Hermione blinked, she could already feel her eyes welling with tears. Her heart felt like it was exploding, and her knees seemed to be giving in from beneath her. She managed to nod.

"I see you've made yourself at home." Malfoy said, nodding at the complete destruction that was the common room. Ron huffed and neared them.

"Mind if we have a moment." Ron's voice was tight, and he stared at Hermione with burning intensity.

"That won't be necessary." Malfoy replied, his tone laced with poison. The two men stared at each other, fists clenched and jaw tightened. Hermione let out a shaky breath and stepped forward, resting a soft hand on Malfoys shoulder.

"It's okay." She whispered. Ron's eyes followed her movement and he was repulsed at their intimate gestures. "We can talk in my room…" She nodded her head for Ron to follow, and he intentionally smacked his shoulder roughly against Malfoy's as he passed.

And then Malfoy was alone, hearing the soft click of her door shutting. He grimaced, unsure if he should be worried. He hoped not, but there was still an aching knot in his stomach. He faced the room and pulled his wand out, slowly but surely putting the room back into place. The table stood upright, the tea cups following and landing perfectly in place again. The books shot back onto the shelf and the chairs scooted back into place. His favorite black leather chair taking its place before the fire place. He moved, and sat in it, shooting flames into the pit. With another flick of his wand, a glass shot forward and filled itself with expensive firewhiskey. Malfoy frowned as he stared into the fire, sipping on his drink as he waited. His ears perked for any sign of foul play.

Once within her room, Hermione seemed to gain a bit of confidence. The door shut behind her and she faced her friend head on. Despite all the show, his face was now a broken picture of confusion.

"Care to explain?" Ron said, his brows knitted together.

"Ronald…" Her voice broke, and she wanted to comfort him. Hold his hand. "You are my best friend. I don't want that to change."

"Clearly…" Ron grumbled sarcastically under his breath.

"Ron! Please just understand… My heart it just… it just chose this." She searched for the right words, but came up empty handed. Ron scoffed and began to laugh, pacing the room.

"Hermione. He is evil! A lying snake! You honestly believe whatever shite he is feeding you? Since day one he had been working against us. He was working for Voldemort! And now, all of a sudden, he is some prince charming to you?!" Ron's voice bellowed, and Hermione's anger began to rise.

"You haven't seen what I've seen!" She retorted.

"Oh! Do tell!"

Malfoy could hear them shouted. A small smirk on his face as he refilled his glass. Hermione threw her hands up in the air in frustration.

"Ronald! It doesn't matter if he's lying or not. I'm free to make my own choices. And this is what I choose." She felt a sudden burst of confidence. "I have seen a part of him that was hidden before, and my heart chose this."

Suddenly Ron's voice was dark, and he neared her, backing her against the wall.

"What? What is it? Don't tell me…" He voice was soft then, but as he studied her face, he couldn't contain his roar. "He's had you hasn't he?!" He took hold of her wrist tightly, and she cowered.

Malfoys eyebrows raised at the sound of Ron's accusation.

"No! But it doesn't matter. That has nothing to do with it! Get off me!" Hermione jerked her arm away and fought the urge to bring it down across Ron's face. Malfoy tenses in the seat, ready to burst in at any moment.

"It doesn't matter? I see." Ron backed from her.

"Ron. If you loved me, you would accept and respect my choices." She said, and he stared at her with a deep brokenness.

"Hermione. I love you. Please don't do this." His voice was soft and pleading.

"I love you too…" She began. "I always will. But we are not together. You are my best friend. And that's how it will remain." She reached forward to hold his hand but he snatched it away and cursed at her loudly. He pushed past her and threw the door open – nearly pulling it off the hinges. Hermione chased after him and threw her arms around him in an attempt to stop him from going after Malfoy, but he dragged her weight along with him as he stormed into the common room.

Malfoy lazily looked up at him over his shoulder, standing slowly.

"Face me like a man Malfoy!" Ron bellowed, shaking Hermione off of him, letting her collapse to the floor. Tears fell from her mocha eyes. Malfoy stood, setting his empty glass on the table. He walked carefully towards Ron and stood so close that their bodies were nearly touching.

"What is it Weasley? You seemed to have so much to say. Where did it all go? Are you finished here?" Malfoy glanced around and raised his brows. Ron huffed and pushed Malfoy at the shoulders, but this time Malfoy didn't budge. The morning before would not be repeated.

"Keep your hands off me." He spat, whipping invisible dirt from his shoulders.

"I don't know what you said to her to make her so delusional… but she will come around. You'd better keep your slimy wanker away from her in the meantime – you hear?"

Malfoy couldn't resist a laugh.

"The woman will do whatever she pleases. Now get out of here before I alert that there is a trespasser on school grounds." He smiled then. And Ron turned away, and grabbed his broom from the corner as he prepared to make his leave. As he opened the window, he turned to Hermione, who remained crumpled on the floor.

"This is really what you choose?" He asked sadly. Hermione stared up at him, tears staining her cheek nodded, and shuddered at his reaction.

"Have it your way then. Don't expect anything to ever be the same." He stepped out the window and was gone. The only sound in the room now was her soft sobs and the crackling of the fire. Malfoy let her be a moment, understanding that this was all very hard for her. But after a few minutes passed, he knelt down before her and scooped her up, bringing her with him over to the black chair. He sat, cradling her in his lap.

"Don't cry, love. It's alright." H smoothed her hair and she slowly clamed.

"What have I done? What have I done?" She murmured. Her heart felt ripped apart. And at this moment all she wanted was to put it back together.

"You've done what was needed to be done. He loves you. He is hurt. He will always be your friend. I promise. He was a fool not to fight harder for you. And he'd be more of a fool not to value what you are willing to give." Hermione shuddered at his words.

"Don't worry. I am here." He cupped her face in his hand and pressed his mouth to hers, tasting her salty tears. Suddenly a fire lit within her. He was gentle, but she deepened the kiss. Hungry for affection. She leaned up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, shifting so that she straddled him.

He looked up at her in surprise, but she was lost in herself, her mouth attacking his. Her tongue darted out - coaxing him to follow suit. And his did, his hands grasping her waist as he shifted his middle to grind against her core. She moaned, and his ears drank in the sweet sound.

"Draco…" She said breathlessly, tears still beading on her lashes. He kissed a hot trail down her neck, lust pulsing through him. She leaned her head, opening herself up to him.

"Draco, I'm scared." She said softly, pulling apart the top few buttons of his shirt. He looked up, confused.

"What are you doing?" He questioned, watching her. She was shaking. "Hermione?" He said carefully. But she simply continued down and let her small hands roam over his chest. It was hard and defined. She sighed at the feel of his skin, and his manhood jerked beneath her. Why had she suddenly gotten this way? So bold?

A deep moan escaped him as her lips met his skin. She sucked there, and made a move to lift her blouse – but he grasped her hands quickly.

"Love… you're not thinking clearly. That's a poor choice, because after a certain point I have little self-control."

"I don't care."

"Yes. You do. You've had a stressful day. You're a bit out of your wits right now." He cursed himself for stopping her. His whole body yearning to take her. But he couldn't. Not like this. Not when her mind was clouded.

He stood then, scooping her up with him as he carried her to her bedroom. He lay her down, slipped off her shoes and jeans, shuffling to grab a pair of soft pajama shorts. He slipped them up her slender legs, and pulled the blanket up over her. Her tired eyes remained closed and she snuggled into the mattress.

Malfoy smiled, shaking his head at her before making his leave.

"Stay. Please." She said sleepily, her arm pulling the blanket aside for him. He stared. Unsure if he should comply. Despite his caution, he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and slipped out of his trousers, leaving him in only his briefs. He moved, and slipped in beside her – overcome with warmth. He was careful not to let their bodies touch. Though it wasn't long before she rolled towards him, resting her head on his chest, wrapping her leg around his and letting herself drift to sleep.

He sighed with an annoyed, lustful groan.

"You're going to be the death of me."


	18. Chapter 18 - Don't Be Sorry

**Friends,**

**Gosh! I'd like to think I update pretty frequently… my chapters aren't that long and I don't have a complex way of writing. It's barely been a day since my last update but I feel like I'm slacking! And it's all because I've been reading too many other stories. Amazing ones! But I must stop neglecting my own, and get it moving along. I value each word in every review! I literally refresh my inbox over and over – hungry for a few little words. So I thank you all who have provided them to me! Also, not that anyone really cares, but I put a new avatar up, though it takes a while to post. And I really like it, especially this is one place I can post pictures of myself with my wand and no one thinks I'm weird... You all should look at it and pretend that you like it. Peace! Enjoy the story – it gets steamy.**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter XVIII

Malfoy barely slept that night. Each soft sound she made ignited a fire within his chest. Every small shift she made sent bursts of electric pleasure throughout his body. For hours he drifted in and out of superficial sleep, his eyes fixed on her face in his moments of consciousness. Studying the shape, the color. Counting her quiet freckles. He longed to touch her. But he knew that if he did, he would easily lose control of himself – and her trust was something he'd worked too hard for.

So instead, he laid there, stiff as a board. Careful not to let her rest against his most sensitive parts. Careful not to breathe the sweet scent of her too deeply. She shifted, her tiny hand placing itself on his chest.

"Malfoy…" Her voice came in a soft hush, and his eyes jolted to her face again to find her eyes closed – a slight smile on her face. He was still, and she simply continued her sleepy way of breathing. A prideful smirk played across his face, his chest swelling. Glad to know she dreamt of him also. Granted, he doubted her mind was quite as dirty as his own. Her dreams probably didn't include his hand fisted in her hair as he brutally claimed her.

How strange this all was. Not long ago the thought of being with a mudblood would have put a bad taste in his mouth. At least, he would tell people that. Make sure it was what his father believed. He had always put on such a good act that often times he believed himself. He had suppressed his true self all those years to the point that truth was ultimately lost. He didn't blame the weasel for acting how he did. It had to be the worst feeling ever to lose such a brilliant, beautiful witch.

There the word was again… beautiful. No matter how had he tried to refrain from romantics, they kept forcing themselves into his head. What he tried to keep as a primal lust had blossomed into the desire to see her laugh, smile, blush, moan – all of it.

Weasley had lost his prize. And it was claimed by whom he saw as his biggest enemy.

Though his mind raced, Malfoy managed to get a few hours of sleep before the sun peeked up on the horizon. As his eyes fluttered open, he stretched, immediately feeling Hermione's body entangle with his. He sighed and relaxed.

"Hermione. Wake up love." He said softly, petting her mess of curls. She stirred, her warm eyes blinking. She peered sleepily up at him with a tired smile. He returned it and caressed her cheek with his thumb.

"Morning." He said. She nodded and stretched, slowly sitting up.

"Mm. Yes. Good morning."

"What are your plans for today?" He asked with a soft smile. It wasn't often that he would go to bed with a woman, and remain there the whole night. He couldn't remember a time when he had to make casual small talk from beneath the blankets.

"I want to shower. I got pretty dirty in the forest yesterday." She stood then, slipping from the warmth of her bed. She was a bit embarrassed having slept in the same bed with him. Sure, nothing happened… but she still felt like she had done something very wrong. She looked at him with a sideways glance. He simply eyed her, cautious and calculating. Aside from her embarrassment, however, there was a pang of victory. She was triumphant. For the time being she had escaped a total breakdown in the face of Ronald. Some of her suspicions regarding Malfoys intentions had simmered as she realized he had kept his hands to himself through the night.

She studied him. His skin was no longer a sickly pallor. It had some warmth, but was still a creamy pale color. Less sadness was immediately visible in his eyes, the dark shadows less prominent. He had filled out over the years, his body long and muscled. His features were still sharp, but much less pointy. There was a mysterious, cool air about him at all times. But as she had grown closer to him, it was much easier to see the kindness within. With her whole heart she wanted to delve deeper into to caged recesses of his heart. She knew that there was much more to him that met the eye.

As he laid there popped up halfway, she drank in the sight of him. His brilliant blonde hair sleep-tousled in a way she had never seen before. The length had grown the past few months, much of it falling into his eyes now. She wanted so desperately to push her hands through it. Her lips parted, and she felt herself slipping into a daydream.

"Granger, you're staring." There was a devilish smirk on his face that sent shivered down her spine.

"Also, you're surprisingly comfortable standing there in your panties." He raised his eyebrows at her, nodding at her simple white underthings. He was not surprised that she didn't wear unreasonably decorated panties. No lace, no frills. The shape was dainty, but was just a cutely cut pair of white panties. Always so practical, she was.

She blushed, looking at the floor.

"Well I've been this way all night…" She fiddled with her hair and made her way towards the bathroom door, coyly looking over her shoulder with a bit of a smirk at him before she disappeared within the room. He soon heard the squeaking of turning handles and water rushing.

What the hell was that look for? Did she expect him to follow? No, there could be no way. She got flustered over a few comments about her lack of trousers… there could be no way she had that type of sexual boldness just yet. He doubted she had ever even had sex before. If didn't seem as though her and the Weasel had gotten that far. But he could be wrong…. The thought enraged him. A knot formed in his stomach as he pondered further.

There wasn't really anyone else he could imagine she could have been to bed with. Krum? No… Dean? Definitely not. Other than that, not much came to mind. Granted he didn't know anything about her muggle life. There could possibly be someone from that part of her she had been with. But the simplest of actions got her all flustered… Ugh! He threw himself out of the bed and paced through the bathroom door, letting the steam curl around him as he eyes her blurry form through the shower door.

"Hermione?" He said softly, loud enough for her to hear over the rushing water.

"Yes?" She said calmly.

"May I join you?" He did his best to not let his voice waver. She gave no response. And he sighed, realizing he was being forward. But his eyes could not tear from her small form in front of him. He stepped to exit with a dejected feeling rising up just as the door clicked open. His eyes snapped over, to see her small hand extend out, reaching for him.

He froze in disbelief, but wasted no time and began stripping immediately.

"Leave your briefs on…" She said is a shy voice. He broke out it a brilliant smile, and obeyed. His heart beat out of chest with excitement. He placed his hand in hers, wanting her to lead him closer at her own pace. After a moment, she pulled him slowly forward – leading him into the small space with her.

The instant his foot stepped into the shower, his vision blurred and she stumbled slightly.

"The hell?" He blinked furiously and rubbed his eyes. He could barely make out more than a blur of shapes.

"I'm sorry Malfoy but I can't let you see me yet." She said softly, guiding him completely within and shutting the door behind him.

"You are a clever witch." He said, relieved it was her doing rather than something more inconvenient. He stood still, letting the water fall over him. He was too worried to slip or knock something over, so he remained still. His eyes trying to focus on her figure, but her hex was too strong. No matter how hard he strained, he couldn't make anything out.

She reached out and slid her hand down his arm, reveling in the feel of his muscles flexing reflexively. He was strong. As she eyes him now, naked save for his briefs that were soaked against his skin now. She was relieved he could not see her, for her mouth hung open as she drank in the sight of his rippled abdomen. He was much less thin as she had expected, his body seeming think and solid now that he stood so close. His shoulders broad and sturdy.

His eyes stared back at her, despite not being able to see. And though she knew he was blind, she still had one arm wrapped around her breasts with an embarrassed look in her eyes.

"Hermione." He breathed. She rested her hand delicately on his chest, and they both shivered. A jolt of hot electricity passing through their bodies. She shuddered. "Has any man ever seen you… like this?"

She blinked. What sort of question was that? What was the intention behind it?

"You mean… naked?"

"Yes."

"Well… no…." She blushed furiously. Embarrassed. He let out a sigh of relief.

"Good." He stepped forward cautiously and reached out, finding her shoulders before letting his hands slide town her arms towards her hands. He took both of them in his and resting them on his chest as he closed the space between them even more. His face hovered before hers, his eyes closed now.

Her breath hitched.

"Why… is that good?" She said in a hushed voice.

"I want to be the only one." He said without a second thought. "I'm glad to know that I will be the one to have you first." His voice was deep and quiet, but there was no malice. She felt her knees go weak at his words. Her mind racing. Surely she had considered giving herself to him as her first… but she didn't really expect to hear those words from his mouth. And she sure as hell didn't think her inexperience would be seen as a good thing.

"Kiss me, Hermione." He whispered. Her brown eyes blinked up at him, unsure. Had he meant right now? No. It was too soon. Not here, not now. She began to stammer, her muscles tensing.

"I said kiss me. And I meant nothing else." He placed his hands over hers and there was a comforting gentleness in his voice. "I can't see your mouth, so you'll have to guide me." She smiled softly, and carefully led her mouth to his. They met, and he let his hands find her face, turning her so that her back pressed against the wall – hot water pouring over them both and he kissed her carefully. He didn't deepen it, he simply repeated soft gentle motions against her lips, their bodies pressing together. He could feel her tense at the feel of his chest against her bare breasts… the feel of his aching cock against her middle. But all he wanted in that moment was to cherish her. Revel in the feel of her skin.

He did not touch her body, only her face. His hands cradling her head. Slowly but surely she calmed, her hands moving to wrap around his back, tracing the muscles there. It was then that he let his tongue slide over her bottom lip, tasting her. She let out a soft moan and Malfoy resisted the urge to take her over. He simply waited, pleasuring her. Her tongue darted out to meet his hungrily, but he held her head still as his own slowly tangled with hers. Feeling her wetness, the curve of her mouth.

She was melting. Her brain was exploding as he seduced her. Who knew Draco Malfoy had the ability to be so sensual and slow. Her whole body tingled with arousal and she let herself be taken over by the feelings he was giving her.

When she was completely puddy in his hands, he deepened his kiss, his mouth covering hers and working faster. Sucking on her tongue and her lips – and she mirrored his actions passionately. His manhood was swollen and hard against her, screaming to be given attention. He ignored it though, wanting this all to be about her. But she felt it, and it surprised her. She couldn't bring herself to look, but the feel of him against her sent her mind racing and sent pangs of desire through her each time a nibble on his lip made his anatomy twitch.

He continued this way, making no further moves. He wanted her to continue, if it was to be. He wanted her to feel in control of her situation, to understand that he had no intention of forcing her into anything. As the thought played in his mind, she ran her hands down his sides and her hips pressed forward against his. He gasped, suppressing a dark moan.

But that was the queue he had been looking for. His hand tightened in her hair and he pulled her head back slightly, exposing the long column of her neck. She gasped, her back arching against him. His hands left her hair only to find her hips and hold them against his as he pressed against her lower belly – knowing that the pressure there would cause her to moan out loud. And she did.

Her hands traveled his body now, desperate to feel him. His mouth left her neck a moment and her eyes fluttered open, water dripping from her dark lashes.

"Are you afraid?" He breathed.

"No." She said surely. And with that his mouth met hers deeply, pulling back against to run his mouth down her neck. But then he did something she did not expect. He dipped his head low and took her rosy peaked nipple into his mouth. A ragged moan escaped her lips and her hands shot up and buried into his hair. He moaned against her, thankful to the gods that she hadn't tossed him away. He nibbled gently, and his other hand kneaded her other breast. Loving the feel of her, the weight, and the shape. His breaths came heavy now, and he was lost the perfectness of her. Even if he couldn't see her, he knew she was everything he had ever wanted. He had the Gryffindor princess melting at his touch and there was nothing else he needed in that moment.

She moaned loudly now. The sweet sound causing him to grow desperate – his cock screaming at him for release. To his surprise, her leg lifted up and wrapped itself around his waist. With a sudden movement his hands grasped her ass and pulled her up, her arms wrapped around his neck and he easily supported her weight as he pressed her against the wall. Their mouths worked hungrily against each other and though the water poured over them, he could feel the think creamy wetness that gathered between her legs. It drove him mad.

"Granger…" He breathed. She failed to listen and kept kissing every bit of skin within her reach. "Granger we have to stop. I can't go any longer without losing control." He spoke hotly in her ear and she let out an exasperated cry.

"Lose it, then." Her command caused him to falter, and he rocked his hips against her, letting his hard length press through the fabric against her core. She shuddered, but he froze then.

"No, no. Not like this. You deserve something a bit different." She shook her head wildly, shifting her hips against him – begging for more. His mind went wild, but he grasped her hips firmly then.

"Damn it Granger, listen to me. Not like this. Trust me, I want to. I know you can tell." He smirked. "But the water is running cold now… and you deserve something much more proper."

"Draco…. I… I feel…" She pleaded.

"I know what you feel. You need release, don't you? Trust me Granger, I know the feeling." She grimaced as he set her down gently.

"Come on, now. When will my sight come back?" He asked, his body crying at the loss of her touch against his him.

"Once you step out of the shower." Her voice was soft, and a bit sad. He groaned.

"Hermione. Don't act like that." He said with a frustrated tone.

"I'm sorry…" Her voice was barely a whisper, and she shut the water off. His heart sank – he hadn't planned on this ending. He made up his mind than, and grasped her hand firmly, pulling her out of the shower with him, rushing madly out the door, dragging her along with him. She none, though fear ran over her.

With his sight back, he grabbed a towel off the wall as he pulled them out into her room. With his eyes closed he faced her and quickly wrapped it around her.

"Keep it over yourself if you wish." His voice was suddenly animalistic, and it sent a fiery pleasure to her core. Before he had time to come to his senses, he picked her up with ease and laid her down on her bed, not caring if they were still wet.

"Relax." He commanded, and she stared up at him with wide eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I didn't remove these, anyway." His words calmed her, though his ability to see now put her on edge.

He was on his knees before her, a strong hand parted her legs and she yelped, resting slightly.

"Shhh…." He calmed her, and his hand snaked between her legs, his fingers meeting her soft womanhood. Her back arched and she gasped, her body instinctively moving closer to his touch. He stared at her, though her eyes were closed. He watched her every movement and drank in the sight of her pleasure.

His fingers played with her, stroking her lips and spreading them gently. She moaned openly now, her head falling to the side, her hair splayed out widely and her mouth parted sweetly.

"I figured we could finish what we started in class." His voice was low, and he doubted she was even listening. Slowly, he let one digit sink into her. Her walls clamped around his finger deliciously and he let out a moan as he gently moved it in and out of her. His eyes watched her intensely, memorizing the way she moved and reacted. It was delicious. With his free hand he slowly pulled his manhood free, stroking himself in time with her. Her eyes remained closed, and he hoped they would stay that way. The last thing he wanted was for her to be frightened.

Both their chests were heaving, ragged moans escaping their lips and Malfoy expertly pleasured them both. He had added another digit, her tight walls resisting expansion. She was practically dripping, and he could have sworn he heard her ask for more. He pushed his thumb lightly against her swollen clit and teased it, her body experiencing a new type of pleasure. She arched up, forgetting to keep herself covered by towel. It dropped from her sides and fell away from her breasts.

His eyes widened at the sight of her, and it took every ounce of restraint not to slam his cock into her right then and there. But as her chest heaved, her soft breasts moving in time, he felt himself near climax. With that, he pumped into her faster, hitting her most sensitive spot. She nearly screamed, her hot wet mouth hanging open deliciously – her hands clutching the blankets beneath her.

"Come for me, Granger." He spoke, and her hands came up to her mouth has her body contorted. He wished he had another arm to rip her hands away from stifling her cry of ecstasy as an orgasm rocketed though her. The feel of her walls clenching around his fingers brought him to the edge, and he found himself cursing as he spilled in unison with her.

After a moment, he slipped his fingers from her, smiling. He moved quickly and pulled the blanket up to cover himself as she floated back down to reality.

"You're beautiful." The words were easy to say, and her eyes fluttered open at this. She was embarrassed, and slipped under the blanket to hide herself as well.

"Thank you." She smiled, her eyes lidded in her afterglow.

"I'm sorry if I pushed too far." He walked around the side of the bed and crawled in next to her, kissing her softly on the forehead. She smiled softly and shook her head.

"Don't be sorry."


	19. Chapter 19 - Passing Time

**Friends, **

**I sincerely apologize that is has taken me so long to post a new chapter. My weekend was so hectic! Plus I have a brutal Japanese exam yesterday… I've had barely any time for anything at all. But here I am again! I thank all of you who have reviewed. They are so helpful and inspiring. Though, it's no fun when I can't give out personal thank-you messages to those who review as guests. You know who you are! Keep them coming. They are like candy. I have the next few chapters in my head… soon there will be an exciting (I hope…) plot twist. But without any further ado, here's the next installment.**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter XIX

The season slowly got colder. Halloween came and went and it wasn't long before a lovely later of snow covered the grounds. The students were all anxious to go home for the holidays. Everyone was getting into the spirit. Carolers lined the hallways, the meals got more festive in the Great Hall, Hogsmeade was overflowing with gift-buyers. It was freezing outside but within the mysterious school there was life and happiness.

For Hermione, it was one of the most stressful times of the year. Her work piled high and she was also partly responsible for organizing the Yule Ball. Since the showdown with Ronald, she had had barely any time at all to explore her blossoming relationship with her platinum haired former enemy. It wasn't that she was trying to avoid him – it was simply that she was completely engrossed in her work. Of course, even when she would find her way back into their common room at late hours, she would find him in his chair staring into the fire. Often times drinking tea, though on occasion it was something much stronger.

He would look over at her with longing in his eyes. A look that made her knees weak. Perhaps a flicker of annoyance that he never got to see her at a normal hours unless they were in class. But mainly those liquid silver eyes called her to him. She would find herself nearing him, her hands reaching out to feel his body. His lips would find hers for a few moments of gentle affection, and then he would part from her.

It was never an angry parting. It seemed more of a controlling mechanism. He had spoken often of how difficult it was for him to resist her. She figured that now that there was no barrier between them to hold him back, he had to take more precautions in order to resist moving too quickly. In all honesty, while the idea of sex made her feel vulnerable and slightly frightened – she was hit with a deep lust every time their bodies got close. She had never felt this with Ronald. It was new and exciting, but unnerving at the same time.

It was so odd… Odd that even if there weren't sexual feelings between them, she longed to know him deeper. Perhaps it was the very fact that he was closed off and mysterious that drew her closer. This man she had known all this time – a man so misunderstood… it was in her very nature to want to uncover his heart. She wondered if she had always felt this somewhere deep in her own.

After her scuffle with Pansy, the gossip had begun. By now the wildfire could not be stopped. The fact that they lived in such close quarters did not help the matter either. She had not yet encountered any more acts of violence, but she still couldn't sit in one place for very long without hearing hushed voices speak her name together with his. Should she feel ashamed? No, of course not… but it still didn't make it easy. So many times Malfoy had commanded her to proclaim that she was his – and he often times made it apparent to the public when he would take her by the waist or sit all to close in class. Even some professors had made sideways comments about it.

She constantly had owls rapping at her window. Worried letters from Harry. A few from Mrs. Weasley giving her updates on Ron, though always hinting that she wished Hermione would rethink things. With her busy schedule, even Ginny had resorted to communicating by owl. Harry had been upset at first. Downright irrational and cruel with his words to her. But after a while he calmed, and Harry remained to wonderful friend he had always been. But never failed to demand to know how things were going. Making sure she was still herself. Still safe. And she didn't blame him for being cautious. She admitted that every so often – in the back of her head – She would remember Malfoy's cruelty. But she would look into his eyes and see the broken young man she had begun to fall in love with.

There was, however, not one owl sent from Ron. And not one sent to him, either.

Once planning for the Yule Ball really got underway, she finally got to see more of her lover. Meetings, supply runs, setting up the venue. They were still heavily preoccupied, but at least preoccupied in the same general area. She would catch him stealing glances at her as her wand waved about the room in preparation. He would whisper suggestive things in her ear in passing. And once he caught her around the corner and let his mouth take over hers to hush her surprise as his hand slipped up her thigh.

As the last few days counted down before the Yule arrived, she finally had a little time to put her head back on straight. Everything was in place, all of the Heads having worked amazingly hard to get everything to come together. It was a strange feeling for her. She remembered being so giddy for the ball in her younger years. Giggling with her friends about who would bring who – letting her heart ache over it. And now she was the one planning it all.

"Hermione." Her head turned at the familiar voice. She was laying collapsed in the loveseat, exhausted.

"Fancy seeing you here." She smiled softly. Malfoy moved, pushing her up so he could sit, her head resting in his lap now. He smiled.

"I suppose I ought to go through the motions, and make sure you were planning on being my date." He spoke tightly, and she laughed. Malfoy did not _date_. His own restraint from saying the word amusing her.

"Well, if you'd like."

"Of course."

"In that case, I would love to." She blushed.

"Can you dance?" He asked then, looking down at her.

"Why?"

"I won't have you stepping on my feet and making a fool out of us. I was raised learning the fine arts, Granger. You'd better have some rhythm." Hermione pondered his words. It made sense of course. His family was known for their ancestry and class. It was no surprise that he would have been taught how to dance – along with a long list of other manners and etiquette for the wealthy.

"I'm decent." She sat up and looked him over. He held her gaze, his body growing warm at the sight of her wide amber eyes and hair all a mess. His hand moved to her face and through her hair, his thumb lightly tracing her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into his touch.

"What colors?" His voice was deep and melodic; sending a wave of pleasure through her entire body.

"What?" She said distractedly.

"Dates typically have corresponding outfits. So, what colors?"

"I'd assume black." A wicked grin formed on her face, and he rolled his eyes.

"I do sometimes wear other colors."

"No, you don't."

"I just don't like to."

"I like black just fine." She retorted, taking his hand in hers gently.

"Accent color? Not red. Or burgundy. I'm no Gryffindor."

"Oh, but I am."

"Right, but you're mine now. And the princess joins the prince's kingdom. Not the other way around. So you're basically a slytherin now." It was his turn to grin, and her nose crinkled.

"Well, I don't know how I would look in green."

"Beautiful, I presume." Her heart skipped a beat. "But I think I would enjoy silver. It's my favorite color."

"So be it then." She said softly. She moved forward, and rested her hands on his strong chest, her mouth finding his in desperation. He had no time to think, and immediately his hands pushed roughly into her hair, a moan rumbling in his chest.

His mouth was strong against hers, pushing deeper – claiming her completely. Her tongue darted out shyly only to be overcome by his passion. In their tango she had pulled herself into his lap, and now could feel his pleasure press against her skin, her skirt having ridden up as she moved. It aroused her to no end that she had this effect on him. She shifted, her womanly center grinding against him. His hands tightened harshly in her hair, and she gasped as he tugged her head back, exposing the long column of her neck,

"My, my you are a naughty girl." His voice was low and rough, and one of his hands hand snaked beneath her blouse. She shuddered, his sudden roughness shooting jolts of desire through her, her own need soaking through her panties now. He breathed in the scent of her and then groaned, releasing his hold on her.

"Come on, Granger." He moved gently, trying to stand. She let out a gasp of rejection and sadness.

"Listen," he began. "I want it all to be perfect. I need to have you in ways you're not ready for. And this…" He spread his arms wide. "… Doesn't make waiting for you easy." He stalked off, and she heard his bedroom door open and shut gently.


	20. Chapter 20 - Deadly Rumors

**Friends, **

**I apologize greatly for my slow updates as of late. Work and school have been taking over my life recently. Don't worry – the show goes on! I will do my best to get these chapters up for you all. This chapter is a bit short but I hope to be updates more frequently soon. Some exciting things are in store!**

**Love,**

**SweetSlytherinPrincess**

Locomotive

Chapter XX

Athena Tantibus was not a woman that appreciated meddling. By no means did she consider herself strict or unbecoming, she simply had no tolerance for any sort of foul play. For most of her life she had traveled the world studying the used of herbs, roots, and various possible ingredients to potions – reporting her findings to the ministry and often publishing her work under various pen names. She was a gifted witch – barely yet reaching thirty but more accomplished than colleagues twice her age that had been in the potion-making career for much longer than she.

When the war had come underway, Tantibus had slunk out of the way of the press and avoided the ministry at all costs. She had been suspicious of the goings on there – and wanted no part of it. When she got word that her old professor and loosely-defined friend had died, her heart sunk. While reluctant to accept her new position as potions professor, she felt it her duty to Severus, and chose to accept.

It had been years since she had even laid eyes on the school. But she recalled it quickly, and felt at home. It was a bit of an odd feeling, standing in the place her old professor had stood. And an even stranger feeling to be lecturing to students sitting in the places she used to sit. None the less, Athena was a professional, and did her job well.

She awoke before the sun, as usual. Standing before her mirror, she slipped out of her night clothes and into her robes. Black. Her sleeves were long and tight, a cascade of intricate buttons going down the front of her corset – the skirt lined with a deep green. Quickly she added a bit of smoke to her eyes and a deep wine stain to her lips. Then ran her hands through her mussed dark curls and pulled them to the side around her shoulder, tying them in place with a dark ribbon. She sighed, grabbed her wand, and made her way out into the corridors. She was always up this early, but on this day there was more reason to be awake than just habit.

She walked with purpose, swiftly and silently weaving through the dungeons – knowing exactly where she was headed. Soon she rounded a corner and her eyes fell upon exactly who she had come to meet.

"Leona." Her voice was warm and low as she eyed the petite blonde standing in the corner. Leona Stellamordis was the opposite of Athena in many ways. While Athena stood tall, Leona was much like a fairy. Athena's dark, warm complexion contrasted with Leona's cool pale features. Even beyond looks however, Athena had a mysterious air about her while she was truly soft and sweet on the inside. Stellamordis however had a softness to her that hid the ruthless and sadistic nature within.

"Ah, Professor Tantibus." Icy eyes flickered. At this moment the blonde had not taken the time to put her long hair up in her typical intricate braids. This morning her hair hung loose, nearly reaching the floor.

"Why have you summoned me?" There was a harshness to Athena's tone, and she held her ground at a safe distance.

"Oh, don't be that way." The blonde's voice was like venom. "Forget the past, dearie. We are colleagues now." She moved forward and rested a delicate hand on Tantibus' cheek – who reflexively backed away.

"No games." She hissed.

"Tsk tsk. You've lost all sense of adventure and fun now that you have stone walls trapping you." Leona gave a wicked grin and smoothed her robes that were a pale blue – nearly white. It held her small frame in the right places but had long loose sleeves and a heavy skirt.

"If you have nothing to say, I am dismissing myself." Athena spoke as she watched the Defense against the Dark Arts professor sway to imaginary music and giggle at her own wit.

"Oh please, you will appreciate my news." She grinned over her shoulder at Athena and fluttered her eyelashes. "It has to do with an old friend of ours."

"Don't flatter yourself. We have no mutual friends."

"Well, perhaps more of an enemy to you." She rolled her eyes.

"Who?" Athena was growing impatient and her voice dripped with annoyance.

"A certain Malfoy." Her voice was giddy and excited.

"Draco?" Athena's eyes grew wide and then narrowed with suspicion. Athena had never had much of a liking for the boy, but he had tried so hard to denounce his past. It just didn't fit. Leona scoffed at this, and twirled her hair girlishly as she leaned against the stone wall.

"Of course not." She smiled devilishly.

"Then…. Who? And what sort of news?"

"Dangerous news."

"I said no games!" Athena shouted angrily and pulled her wand against the woman before her, who reacted quickly and matched her stance.

"Oh please Tantibus! You've drawn your wand against a defense professor!" She laughed happily as Athena lowered her wand slowly with a low growl.

"I did not meet you here to be toyed with. You know I detest the sight of a snake like you." As Athena spoke, Leona rolled her eyes and rose her hands in the air.

"I promise I'm on my best behavior. I've repented and seen the light." She laughed teasingly and closed the space between them once more.

"It's Lucious." She whispered into Athena's ear, and her breath caught in her throat.

"What do you mean? He is in Azkaban…" Athena's voice switched from anger to worry and surprise - mixed with a sudden nervousness.

"Perhaps not for long…."

"But… how?"

"It seems as though he has vengeance and revenge on his mind…."

"He can't escape! It's impossible! "

"It has been done before." Stellamordis ran a hand through her fantastically long hair and sighed.

"How do you know this?" Athena asked, her eyes narrowing once again.

"I have friends in high places." She mused.

"You mean low places?" Athena scoffed and turned to leave, fear washing over her. She was unsure whether she could trust the blonde… her history not exactly spotless. But if this was true, what would happen? Who else had word? And of those who might have an idea, why would they tell Stellamordis? And why would Stellamordis then tell her? Athena's suspicion of the blonde increased by the second.

What could he be after if he were to get free? She couldn't understand much point in going after Potter. Revenge maybe, but there wasn't much else to gain. She wracked her brain… perhaps any involved in the war were subject to his wrath? But it just didn't make any sense.

And then suddenly she froze, halfway down the hall. A realization washed over as she turned to look at the woman still some distance away from her.

"It's because of Draco, isn't it?" Athena's voice dripped with fear and realization. Leona let out a shill, cackling laugh.

"That's the rumor, anyway." She grinned. Athena grimaced and her fists clenched.

"A rumor it will stay!" She retorted.

"So you think."

"I swear I will kill you if you have any part in this. Mark my words you filthy wretch!" Athena turned on her heel and made her departure as Stellamordis nearly laughed herself to death.


	21. Chapter 21 - Yule

**Witches, Wizards, and Muggles alike,**

**I'm here! Updating a little late, but updating none the less. How did you all feel about the last chapter? I am a really big fan of Tantibus and Stellamordis… I'm excited to unveil more of their history! Also, I have been asked for more of Ronald. Which, I really enjoy so I will most definitely bring him into the story more. But, I've never been a fan of Ronald seeming evil or abusive – etc. Many Dramoine fics make him out to be a total arse. But I feel like if he really loved her, he would accept her decision. What do you guys think? Should he come back a wreak havoc?**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy the next installment!**

Locomotive

Chapter XXI

The Yule had finally snuck up on her. Through all the planning, schoolwork, distasteful classmates, and electrifying touches from a certain blonde – Hermione had barely had a hold on her sanity the weeks leading up to the ball. But it was here, and she wasn't going to let her last Hogwarts Yule Ball be unsatisfactory.

She sat at her vanity, staring at her face. A face she fancied to be rather plain – nothing too special. Running a hand through her hair, she sighed as her fingers met a curly mess of tangles that fizzed out as she brushed them. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. For the first time, she desperately wanted to impress a man. Not to spite anyone, or feel victorious. Simply to feel beautiful for someone she had feelings for. But Draco Malfoy seemed to be the biggest critic. She could see his smug face eying her over with a nonchalant smirk. That wasn't what she wanted… she wanted his face to light up – his heart to beat faster… But suddenly her confidence had drained.

She glanced at her watch. Ginny would be here soon. The red-head had insisted they get ready together – and Hermione was grateful. Not only because Ginny had much more knowledge on femininity than herself, but she also missed her friend.

As the clock ticked away, there was a rap on the door. Ginny was always punctual when it came to things like this. Hermione got up from her seat and cautiously opened the door for the excited Weasley.

"Are you ready?" Ginny's face was bright as she let herself into the room – waving her wand to add more light. "Do you have a dress? Let me see it? Oh, it looks beautiful. Great. Sit down."

For the next two hours, Hermione had her hair tugged, tucked and curled – pinned and pulled. Her hair was not easy to manage, but when it was all said and done she was amazed. Ginny had smoothed the frizz and pulled the top half up into an intricate bun, pinned with modest gems. A few strands loose to frame her face. Her hair had grown long, and the rest cascaded down in delicate smooth curls, some of which had been pulled forward around her shoulder.

"It's great Gin." Hermione breathed as she stared at herself in the mirror.

"Well, I'm glad." Ginny began, folding her arms. "But you're not finished. Hermione Granger is going to wear make-up." Hermione blinked and turned to stare at her.

"I wear make-up sometimes you know…." Hermione laughed hesitantly.

"I don't mean a bit of lip-balm and some mascara. You're going to grow up and look like a woman tonight."

Before Hermione could protest, Ginny was upon her, working masterfully – quickly.

"There…" Ginny breathed happily. "Now, let's get your dress on."

As Hermione walked to her wardrobe to retrieve the gown, Ginny touched up her own makeup, drew her hair up and pinned it elegantly before pulling her own bold red dress from her bag. After adjusting, zipping and tying – the two young women stared at each other with wide smiles.

"Ginny. You look so beautiful." Hermione said.

"And you look fit for a Malfoy." Ginny meant it – despite nearly choking out the last words.

"Well, shall we get going then?" Hermione suddenly felt nervous, and Ginny calmly grasped her hand and led her out on their way to the Ball.

It had already been underway, perhaps for half an hour. Most had already begun to dance, and everyone was hand in hand. Except for two. Draco Malfoy stood facing the entrance with and annoyed tick, his hands shoved in his pockets as he did his best not to make conversation with Harry Potter – who stood beside him. Though, Harry was much less peeved.

"Simmer down Malfoy, it's what girls do. It's not like she changed her mind." Harry grinned, wearing simple black dress robes that were accented with a deep red to match his partner. He looked handsome, but Malfoy had taken it to the next level. His clothes were perfectly fitted, nearly all black except for silver linings and a touch of deep green. His clothes were of high quality – as no Malfoy would be caught dead wearing secondhand robes on such an occasion. The two men stood there being eyed by all those who came without a date, hoping to be approached by the older, quite famous two.

"Are you nervous?" Harry inquired, doing his best to be casual with his former enemy. Trying hard to please Hermione by making friends. Malfoy scoffed.

"Why would I be nervous?" He spat.

"Well, your knee has been jumping the past five minutes…" Harry laughed. "And well, Hermione has always wowed the crowd at these… as I realize now – you probably noticed. How long have you wanted her, by the way?"

"Oh come off it Potter." Malfoy said angrily.

"Do you want to make her happy?" The dark haired boy shifted, to look at Malfoy' face.

"Of course…" Malfoy managed. It was hard enough to show this side of himself to Granger –but nearly impossible to show it to bloody Harry Potter.

"Look!" Harry elbowed Draco in the ribs – probably a bit too roughly as the two girls entered the ballroom and slowly made their way down the stairs.

Draco's vision blurred for a moment. His heart beat fast as he looked up at her. Her lips were painted the color of wine. Her face was even, lustrous. Her eyes lined – winged out. Her lashes were dark and her cheeks tinted as though she was blushing just slightly. She looked dark and mysterious - much like a vampire. Stunning. Beautiful. _Sexy._

She wore a strapless black gown. It hugged her frame perfectly, her breasts round and lovely and covered enough not to seem too sexualized, but the dress had a sweetheart neckline that drew him in. The fabric wrapped around her middle, but flowed whimsically around her legs, the very bottom of the gown fading into a brilliant gradient of dazzling silver. Looking almost like stars in the night sky.

She stole the show. She was not some girl in a frilly pink dress anymore. She was a woman. A woman to be desired. Malfoy got ahold if his pulse as he neared her, his hand extending to take hers, the other folded behind his back.

"Milady." Draco said softly as her hand slipped into his. Their eyes were locked, and he wouldn't let them break as he gently pulled her to his side. His chest swelling with an emotion he couldn't name. But he was sure it had something to do with the fact that the most beautiful woman in the room was on his arm. And not on his arm just for the night, but for many more. But he dared not make eye contact with any of the slack-jawed onlookers, he simply made his way out to the middle of the dance floor.

"Dancing already? In the middle of everyone?" Hermione peeped. "Everyone is looking at us…"

"Shhhh. Everyone is looking at you, not us. And it is because you look absolutely irresistible." As they reached the middle of the floor, he wrapped his hand around her waist – surprised to find that the back of her dress dipped down low until the dark fabric crisscrossed at her lower back. His brows raised and he smirked as he expertly began to glide them both around the room in time with the music.

Hermione was overjoyed in that moment as she did her best to keep her gaze with his. His eyes were a warm swirling silver-blue and they seemed to understand the depths of her soul. Their bodies pressed close, and it made her warm. His body was like stone – yet it was welcoming. They danced like this for many songs, until she stopped resisting her desires and let her head rest against his chest. He smiled softly and let arms wrap around her and they swayed gently in place with the music.

"Harry is here. Did you know?" He whispered to her.

"Yes, he came for Ginny."

"I didn't know that was allowed."

"It just has to get approved." She hummed softly against his chest.

"It's been awhile since you've seen him…" He mused. She lifted her head.

"We write often." She studied his face. "I'm here for you, Draco." She smiled and lay her head once more. He squeezed her more tightly against his body and sighed.

"It's hard for me not to feel hatred for him, Hermione. Even after all this."

"I know…"

"But I am trying."

Music swirled in the air around them, their eyes met in a heated moment of understanding as they began to dance once more. Bewitched snow danced around them as they moved, nearly everyone's eyes fixed on the couple as they took control of the floor. And yet they noticed not – simply lost in each other.

As the night wore on Hermione had stolen a few dances with Harry and found herself giggling with her old friends from Gryffindor. The mousy book-worm became the life of the party – Malfoy did not mind, though he did not take any chances to dance with anyone else. He simply waited patiently for what he wanted.

"You dance so well, Mr. Malfoy." A cold voice spoke next to him, and he held his posture as he turned to look at who was addressing him. He raised his eyebrows. Before him was Professor Stellamordis. Clad in a lovely whimsical lavender dress and robes. Her hair was glittering with jewels – tied up in an intricate braid before the length fell forward in platinum waves.

"Thank you, Professor." Malfoy's speech was tight. He didn't quite like the devilish glint in the woman's eyes.

"May I have the honor?" She tilted her head with a smile. Malfoy broke eye contact and looked forward.

"I apologize, but I'm here with someone."

"Oh dearie, we all know. It's no secret that you've been fawning over the mudblood. And I don't blame you. She's quite delicious looking."

Malfoy's fists clenched, and suddenly all of his attention was on the petite professor. Had she really spoken those words? It was a slur he had used more times than he could count – but now it angered him to the core.

"Is there something I can help you with? Otherwise, I believe this conversation is over." Malfoy stepped to make his escape before he exploded with anger, but Leona took his arm in hers.

"I believe I have a few things to say that you would be quite interested in." He flashed a wicked grin as she pulled him out to dance. Only this time, Malfoy no longer moved with elegant fluidity, but was tight and awkward as he glared down at the scheming witch before him.

"Speak." He growled. She giggled softly.

"Oh Draco. It pains me that you treat me this way. I've known your family for quite a long time. Just, always behind closed doors – you know how that goes." She spoke quickly, each expression animated and annoying.

"Enough games…"

"Everyone always says that…" She made a pouty face before pressing her body close. Malfoy stiffened. "Listen to me. Whether or not I'm friend or foe is irrelevant. But I thought you might like to know that you're going to pay your dues soon enough."

"What do you mean?" Malfoys voice was deep and low, anger bubbling up.

"You think you can change sides so easily? You're going to pay for it now, Draco. And to be honest, I doubt you've really changed."

"You know nothing." He spat angrily.

"Oh I think I know more than you realize. I can see it clearly, whereas you're wearing fogged lenses. A temporary change of heart for some tart who spreads her legs for you is not a reflection of your soul."

Malfoy snapped, and stepped back from her instantly – his wand drawn against her. She simply stood there with a soft grin as people began to turn and stare. After a few moment the music lulled and Malfoy got ahold of his senses. He lowered his wand and turned away, pacing quickly over to his date before dragging her out along with him.

"Draco… Draco what's happening? Are you alright?" Hermione stammered in confusion as she was nearly dragged through the school towards the common room.

"No, Hermione. There is something wrong… I am not alright."


End file.
